My Anti-Fairytales in Dating #1: The Stalker

stalker

Once on a time I met a guy at a club. He was drunk, he was 25, he was from San Pablo, and he told me that he had a gambling problem. We danced, it was ridiculous. We exchanged names. Later, amongst his many questions, he asked me when my birthday is, and I told him.

The next day he emails me. Since he knew: 1. my name, 2. the city that I lived in, and 3. my birthday, he was able to conduct a bit of online research about me and eventually stumbled upon my contact information.

He said he learned a lot about me. I asked him what he learned.
He asked me to give him a word count, and I replied sarcastically: “1,000 words”.

Two days later: he emails me a document he typed up on MS Word, filled with all the information that he found out about me online: where I went to school, what I’m doing now, and a lot about my hobbies, my interests, and some things about my personalty. Pretty much everything and all the public information that exists about me on the interwebs. He then goes off on some weird, 3 AM rant/bad poetry (I know because he documented all the hours of the night that he began his essays) about how he finds me attractive and fascinating, and asks me what I want to know about him. He says in not so many words that we could be very romantical together.

I email him back and reply:

“Oh my god this is insane please stop”

The End (hopefully)

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