(We could subtitle this: When mary ann dates, hilarity ensues.")
Yes, I heard you. He's not worth my time and worry. Cut my losses blahblahblah.
"Do the things you know, and you shall learn the truth you need to know." --Louisa May Alcott
Last night I was sitting around wondering where it all went wrong. There was much Rice Dream involved (if you're playing the home trivia game, I'm lactose intolerant. It's sort of more like Ice Milk than Ice Cream, but it's very tasty and results in no gastro-intestinal distress, in case you've seen in it in the grocery and wondered what Vegan Ice Cream tastes like... I recommend the pies in Mint and Mocha).
Everything seemed fine on Tuesday. On Tuesday he was WAY more into me than I was him. He thought I was pretty and I was having fun. On Tuesday. And then suddenly, without me doing anything, he didn't show up or call or answer the phone. Why? What happened? I usually have to do something to scare the boys away.
I don't want to reveal what I went through to hunt down his address. I invested a lot of time and people-finding skills that ydelek and I have honed over the years in our relentless searches for gossip. Bearing in mind that I had a phone number that is not listed in his name, his name, his age, and a general idea of about where in this state he lives to being with... it was a tricky one. But I did find him and for free. Stalking is easy when you've got time and the internet.
So, then I turned to the internet and got directions to the address I had just aquired. You should know that at this point I was like 30% certain I was headed to the right place. Maybe 80% sure it was the right city and thirty percent that this would be his house.
An hour later I was in the GHETTO. This was about when reason kicked in. What was I doing? Was hunting down a guy who didn't return my calls really how I wanted to die? Would this make the evening news? Would they ransack my call logs and computer history looking for what I was doing in the ghetto that far from home late at night? I was going to die without my pride.
Why was I doing this? It seemed like a perfectly reasonable plan when I was sitting at home with nothing better to do on a Friday night...
Half an hour after that, I was on his street, not in the ghetto anymore. Was I just going to leave a note in the door? It was like ten thirty at night. I knew he had a garage so there was a chance that even if it was his house I wouldn't see his car. I would just leave a note. I'd worry about what to write when I got there.
And if it wasn't his house afterall, it would give someone an interesting start to the day when they opened the door and found a strange note from a gilted girl. They could wonder about me forever...
Oh, but there's his car! This is actually his house. Now what? It's only ten thirty at night and I have travelled fifty miles to be here. I guess I ring the bell. I think this makes me insane. If he has been avoiding me on purpose I think he will be afraid of me forever. Oh well. Let's ring that bell.
Lights. Shit! What am I doing? What's wrong with me? There are some crossed synapses somewhere in the impulse control and rational thinking sections of my brain. Too late now.
"One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are, when you don't come home at night." -- Margaret Mead
He was happy to see me. He didn't seem to think it was at all weird or scary that I hunted him down. (Potential stalkers take note: I would find that both very strange and terribly frightening. Do not show up on my doorstep unannounced, in the middle of the night or at two on a Saturday afternoon. Even if I seemingly have fallen off the face of the planet. Especially if I have not given you my address. Thanks. Let ydelek or Jeff or JV know that you can't find me and if they also can't find me, they'll let my mom know. Please don't hunt me down yourself. Thanks again.)
He'd been detained out of town with some work complication for the last couple of days and had just gotten home. He didn't have my phone number with him, so he couldn't call, and he'd only been home for an hour when I showed up. It was all terribly reasonable.
I stayed, watched a movie, got better not-through-the-ghetto directions home and arrived back here around four this morning. He's on his way here now. I have no idea what we're going to do.
About One Year Ago: My adorable little sister meets the landlord "I told him I was Mary's [sister], and then I asked him if he was the landlord. He had been in the house for a long time already. I kept wondering if he was a rapist or something."
About Two Years Ago: "I now have two cuts and a black eye. From my dresser... "
