The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Too Fucking Nice written @ 1:33 PM on December 21, 2002 I looked down at my watch yesterday at work and noticed that the time was just after four. "Hmm," I thought to myself, "it's almost time for my stalker to come in." Sure enough, who comes sliding into the store like a snake but Mark. Already his aura of negative energy has upset both my mojo and my karma, and I swallowed as he offered his discolored smile. "Hi, Sam. How are you?" "Fffiimmmmeeeggrrr." "That's good. What are you up to?" "Working," I growled. "Ohhh, is that all?" I didn't answer. "Am I bothering you?" I looked up at him curiously. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was torn between lying and telling the truth so nothing came out. "What are you doing for Christmas? Are you excited?" "I'm staying with my family," I said through clenched teeth. "For the *entire* day." Like a prisoner, I wanted to add, but a willing prisoner. "Oh, that sounds nice." Again, I was silent. "Am I bothering you?" Again, he smiled. I may have been staring into the mouth of a basilisk. (Sorry for the Harry Potter reference, but I knew about basilisks even before the books came out) Finally, I worked up the courage to speak. I tried to be as polite and as delicate as possible-- I may have been crazy-- but I at last said, "Well... I was just wondering why you come around here all the time?" Something in his expression, something I cannot explain, changed. "Well, maybe I like coming around here. Maybe I like talking to you because you're a nice person." He was getting extremely offended. "Am I bothering you? Is is a problem if I come around here?" He was downright furious. "Okay, I'm bothering you-- I've gotta go." And he slipped silently out of the store. I stood there stunned for a few moments staring after him as he disappeared into the crowds at the mall. I couldn't help but think, "Oh God, I pissed off a potential murderer." Mom wanted me to call her if he came in again, but the store was too busy and Deborah had me working stock all night for me to do so without alarming the customers or turning heads. Finally around seven o'clock Deborah came in and told me to take a break. I told her I didn't feel comfortable sitting around in the food court this evening by myself, and it was here that I explained to her my brewing situation with Mark. As it turns out, Jessica, my co-worker, had also told my boss earlier in the day what my situation was, and Deborah seemed a little horrified. Yes, horrified, there was no other word for it. Audrey, Deborah's mom who is like another grandma to me, sometimes comes in to help with the store, and she was there last night. She demanded that Deborah call security to have a guard escort me out to my car at the end of the night. The headstrong, foolish, fiercely independent side of me was uncomfortable with this, but I also knew there was no sense in fighting it either so... I talked to security, provided a description of the guy, and toward the end of the night the guard came in. I wish I knew his name. He was very cute! Anyway, we had a delightful conversation as we went out to my car. He told me my first mistake was being nice to the guy. I didn't even bother to tell him about Ronnie from my sophomore year and what trouble I got into by being nice to him; I just said, "Yeah, I know-- I hate myself for it." He was such a nice guy, though. And he admitted that he was working with a bunch of morons, so if I ever needed escorting again, I was to ask for him. Chivalry is not dead after all. So from now on in this diary, until I learn my favorite security guard's name, we'll call him My Knight In Shining Armor. Well, when I got home, naturally my mother went into conniptions when she heard what happened and the fact that I pissed off a potential murderer, and she has ordered me to be escorted to my car for a couple more nights until I'm sure Mark is gone for good. If that guy comes in again, I'm to call security immediately, of course, but my intuition tells me that if I don't see Mark again today, I might not see him ever. Suffice to say, that will be nice. He has an energy-sucking aura, even if he is innocent and isn't "a stalker" after all, and even though we're supposed to love thy neighbors and not harbor any hate, distance will be maintained. It's times like these when I would normally proclaim to God, "Why me?!" Except I know the answer to "why me." I'm too fucking nice!
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