Last night my neighbor’s ex-/occasional/off-and-on boyfriend or perhaps just stalker came by again looking for her. As usual, I had no idea where she was.
He’ll be around every day or two for a week or two. Then I won’t see him for a while.
My neighbor has several people like that.
I know that in the past at least once this guy has called the cops, afraid that she might be dead or unconscious due to some drug overdose.
He’s asked me before if she and I ever “did anything”. And the answer: a resounding NO. She’s just not even close to my type. I want a woman with whom I can have an interesting conversation. Also, one to whom I’m attracted.
Anyway, last night—this was around 8:00 or so(?)—he was here, strongly smelling of alcohol. He was here for a while. He knocked on my door, asking if I’d seen her. And then he proceeded to tell me a few details about her which I don’t especially need to know. This included that fact that she goes off partying and “getting wild” and having sex with several people (I don’t know if that’s all at once or separately) including now “some guy with a real big dick”. He actually mentioned the big dick guy earlier yesterday afternoon when he came by, not noticeably of alcohol. He also mentioned some personal medical issue of hers.
That seemed rude.
Well, last night he knocked on my door a couple of times, and eventually told (not asked) me to call her from my phone and started to give me her number.
Now in the past, I’ve often thought that he seemed to mean her well, that he was really concerned for her, that she might do something dangerous, or at least that she was hanging around with bad influences or whatever. But this seemed different. He’d clearly been drinking (or maybe someone poured it on him—I doubt it though) and with this emphasis on the big dick guy he just reeked of jealousy along with the alcohol.
And he seemed to be treating me as his buddy in all this. I’m not his buddy. I know I’ve heard his name a few times, but I never can remember it. Mainly because I don’t care. I don’t interact with him much, and never would choose to.
So, I said no. I’m not gonna call her. I told him that I really didn’t want to get involved with whatever this drama is. Because I have to live here, and I have to share the kitchen with this woman. Granted, she’s almost never in there. But still, I don’t want to be involved.
Okay, I am terribly bored these days, and I need something going on in my life. But from what I’ve seen of these folks, I don’t like any of them enough to want to get involved. With the occasional yelling and crying and knocking on the door for extended periods and refusing to talk to each other, maybe there’s something interesting going on. And maybe if I knew more details I might be interested in these people as characters in a story I was reading or watching, but not when it’s happening in real like right next door to me and threatening to spill over into my apartment.
. . .
Okay. So. This morning I found this “shrine” that this ex-boyfriend or whatever he is must have built. I know for sure that at least part of it is from him. He borrowed a pen from me to write a note for her on one of his business cards. And several of them are part of the shrine.
So somebody, please...it’s not just me, right? This is weird?
He’ll be around every day or two for a week or two. Then I won’t see him for a while.
My neighbor has several people like that.
I know that in the past at least once this guy has called the cops, afraid that she might be dead or unconscious due to some drug overdose.
He’s asked me before if she and I ever “did anything”. And the answer: a resounding NO. She’s just not even close to my type. I want a woman with whom I can have an interesting conversation. Also, one to whom I’m attracted.
Anyway, last night—this was around 8:00 or so(?)—he was here, strongly smelling of alcohol. He was here for a while. He knocked on my door, asking if I’d seen her. And then he proceeded to tell me a few details about her which I don’t especially need to know. This included that fact that she goes off partying and “getting wild” and having sex with several people (I don’t know if that’s all at once or separately) including now “some guy with a real big dick”. He actually mentioned the big dick guy earlier yesterday afternoon when he came by, not noticeably of alcohol. He also mentioned some personal medical issue of hers.
That seemed rude.
Well, last night he knocked on my door a couple of times, and eventually told (not asked) me to call her from my phone and started to give me her number.
Now in the past, I’ve often thought that he seemed to mean her well, that he was really concerned for her, that she might do something dangerous, or at least that she was hanging around with bad influences or whatever. But this seemed different. He’d clearly been drinking (or maybe someone poured it on him—I doubt it though) and with this emphasis on the big dick guy he just reeked of jealousy along with the alcohol.
And he seemed to be treating me as his buddy in all this. I’m not his buddy. I know I’ve heard his name a few times, but I never can remember it. Mainly because I don’t care. I don’t interact with him much, and never would choose to.
So, I said no. I’m not gonna call her. I told him that I really didn’t want to get involved with whatever this drama is. Because I have to live here, and I have to share the kitchen with this woman. Granted, she’s almost never in there. But still, I don’t want to be involved.
Okay, I am terribly bored these days, and I need something going on in my life. But from what I’ve seen of these folks, I don’t like any of them enough to want to get involved. With the occasional yelling and crying and knocking on the door for extended periods and refusing to talk to each other, maybe there’s something interesting going on. And maybe if I knew more details I might be interested in these people as characters in a story I was reading or watching, but not when it’s happening in real like right next door to me and threatening to spill over into my apartment.
. . .
Okay. So. This morning I found this “shrine” that this ex-boyfriend or whatever he is must have built. I know for sure that at least part of it is from him. He borrowed a pen from me to write a note for her on one of his business cards. And several of them are part of the shrine.
So somebody, please...it’s not just me, right? This is weird?
That is a broken cell phone.
Local bus tickets.
Business cards.
Cigarettes.
Clearly he didn’t come here planning to make a shrine. This is just what he had on him.
Clearly he didn’t come here planning to make a shrine. This is just what he had on him.
Apart from signifying a certain level of frustration or maybe obsession or, you know, “crazy”, this seems to be saying “I was here, I took the bus, I waited long enough to smoke these several cigarettes, I got mad and broke my phone. See? This is all for you.” Or maybe these things have a particular significance to the two of them which I’m not aware of.
. . .
Aaaand, he came back. This morning, around 10:30am. He knocked once and left.
That was odd. Usually he hangs out, knocks several times, makes phone calls (maybe that is his phone that’s broken there), knocks on my door to ask if I’ve seen her. Perhaps I’ve succeeded in staying out of it. Yay.
That was odd. Usually he hangs out, knocks several times, makes phone calls (maybe that is his phone that’s broken there), knocks on my door to ask if I’ve seen her. Perhaps I’ve succeeded in staying out of it. Yay.
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