The Stalker

Keep your pants on, kiddies.
The answers to your questions about Robin are on the way.
Expect them as tomorrow's post.
All but that last one . . . I think I know who you are and I have to ask: WHY WOULD ROBIN KNOW WHAT I LOOK LIKE NAKED?????????
This isn't College Co-Eds II.
We don't walk around in the nude and have pillow fights.
Those kinds of friends don't even really exist.
Sorry for bursting your bubble.

In the meantime, enjoy the following:


Freshman year was full of firsts.
First time away from home.
First real taste of freedom.
First fraternity party.
First dorm.
First horrible bout of poisoning from what the cafeteria pawns off as food.
But it's free, so it's worth it, right?
It was also Robin's first encounter with a stalker.

He appeared nice enough.
Attractive, older male.
A few dates.
Some phone calls.
Seemed normal enough.
Until . . . .

He wouldn't leave her alone.
Everywhere she turned, there he was.
At first, even though she might not admit it, it was flattering.
This guy that could have any number of women.
Paying constant attention to our dear Birdie.
But there's a thin line between attraction and obsession.
And he surpassed that line with a quickness.

He started hiding out in the Holly Bushes under her window.
Yes, holly bushes.
Big, prickly, green shrubbery.
That can't be comfortable.

He would stare in her window.
We caught him several times.
Robin, for the first and last time in her life, was passive aggressive.
She didn't want to hurt his feelings.
And part of me will always think that she wasn't quite sure that he was over the line.
He was.
So we took over for her.

Emily (our fantabulous resident assistant and good friend) and I took it upon ourselves to email him. Speaking of passive aggressive.
We called Robin in to witness that which we were doing.
She needed to know what we were doing in her name.

Granted, some of this letter is paraphrased . . . who the hell remembers a letter you wrote 8 years ago? BUT, the part in BOLD is verbatim.
Trust me on this.
THAT part, you don't forget.

L*&^,

Stop calling me.
Stop coming around.
I'm not interested.
It's downright scary.
If you continue in this pursuit, I will call the police.
Do not call me, do not email me, do not approach me, do not talk to my friends, do not talk to my family, do not talk to my dog, do not be seen in my general vicinity. Stay away from me and all things in relation to me.

Robin.


L*&^, though a very intelligent man, couldnÂ’t take a clue.
Even one so blatant as the above.
He continued to stalk our dear Robin.
Though he was surreptitious about it.
A bit.
Until Crystal - Robin's roommate and our dear friend - caught him at the window again:
On tip toes, hands on the windowsill, trying for a glimpse of our dear Robin.
At this point, Crystal reached through the window, forcefully threw him into the holly bushes and slammed the window shut.

L*&^ was not heard from again.
Nor seen.
At least not Freshman year.

When we were Sophomores and he was a Senior, we heard tale that L*&^ was moving to CO.
We ran into him in the courtyard of Short and Denny Hall.
Yes, he was packing to move to CO.
But he was taking his girlfriend/soon-to-be wife with him.
Turns out he had gotten a 17-yr old Freshman pregnant.
Nice.

---Meghansdiscontent - - AKA Brittany