Thin Red Line
There is a very thin red line between true love and stalking someone. I know this because I almost forgot about an old proverb or adage or something that says, "if it's too good to be true, it probably is." Seems whilst I am dreaming, scheming and thinking up such wonderous phrases of lieterature on my own, I tend to forget ones that are already in place.
Back in my archives some place, I and you alike dearest of diary, will find some rather recent enteries about a crush I developed at my place of business. After a whirlwind romance that included a smattering of emails, a half dozen phone calls and two very long and very mind boggling nights that spanned one weeks worth of real time, I came to my senses. Several attempts at being suggestive with pretty words failed so I finally spelled it out in plain english via a verbal communicae. Since I wrote those previous passages about this particular person, today is the first day where I have not received a single phone call from her. Most days it was several and these often included the sort of cryptic voice mail yours truly would leave if he wanted to get your attention. When repeated return calls and reiteration of the facts also failed, I gave up using my celluar device all together and tried good old fashion ignoring-her-so-she'll-FINALLY-get-the-hint-WaynesWorld-psyco-hose-beast type shit. Knowing of my pending and eventual trip to Vegas you would think I would get a break? But the calls persisted, even on my vacation.
With great joy in my heart, releif off my shoulders and for not having to apply for a restraining order I am very happy to inform you that she got fired from work on friday. This is a gift for me on several levels:
1) She does not know where I live and has my cell number which doesn't phone search out to a viewable home address.
2) With the exception of the now 4th Fear & Loathing novel I have leant out and will never get back, there is nothing lost nothing gained and no worries about STD contraction or pregancy inducing encounters; I'm basically off scott free.
3) Repetetion of an old theme.
My 'X' works in a different department approximately 50 yards from my cubicle. One of the women that is using me for sex worked there a couple of years ago and the 'X' and her both know each other on a basic exsistantce sort of acknowledgement; they both agree the other one is there, but do the best to ignore one and other. The second woman that is using me for sex, currently works there and for a breif period of time, I was her boss; her cube resides 20 feet from mine and 45 yards from the 'X'. The crush turned stalker was strategicly placed in a third department, half-way between myself and the 'X'.
The relevance and lessons here for learned could be vastly open for inturpretation. I however, think the best thing I have learned is that I need to find a new job very soon, because my penis is trying desperately to get me fired from a job I despise. All because my big brain is too scared to take that leap of faith. Every time I try to wrangle in this one-eyed lone ranger for my professional carreer, something always seems to get in the way. Several weeks back it was the crush, last week it was yet another foreign temprtress hailing from a Euorpean origin.
This week, dearest of diaries, I come into work, sick and sleep deprived, reeling from my jaunt in Vegas with a solem swear to retire my golden fishing rod and hence forth never to cast my line into the company pond.
Today a new member to another team makes her introduction to me. She sits three cubes down and a mere 12 feet from my personal hell hole. Her name is Skyler, she just turned 21, moonlights as a stripper and the next sentence out of her mouth after all that information was, "Cool shirt. I LLLLOOOOVVVVEEE the Deftones and dance to them every saturday night!"
I'm not sure if I'm being mocked, tested or pushed in the right direction.
I'll get back to you after I gauge how Saturday goes.
Comments Are Always Appreciated!
powered by SignMyGuestbook.com