I stalked a guy on Monday night. Yep! It's true. I was leaving happy hour ($3 burger/fries at Maizie's- yum!) and I was in a bit of hurry because I had exactly 30 minutes to get home and get ready for and then get to my soccer game. I was walking briskly, in heels...click! click! click! I was walking behind one of the not-quite-part-of-your-ordinary-society men that you'll find in downtowns everywhere. He was wearing really big headphones and tilting a bit to the right.
I was walking faster than he was. Click!Click!Click! I was about to pass him when he announced very loudly, though rather calmly, "I am being stalked! I am going to dial NINE. And then ONE! And then ONE again!" He repeated this one more time before I reached my car. "I am being stalked! I am going to dial NINE. And then ONE! And then ONE again!"
I got in my car hoping that he would feel some relief at this point, but sadly, my in-vehicle destination was the same as his on-foot destination - through the parking lot to the street. He walked directly in the middle of the parking lot, giving me no space to go around him. And so I continued stalking him in my car.