Tag Archives: obsession

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER

I admit I’m not an example of a perfect human being. I’m not without my flaws. I have a short fuse, and I’m a perfectionist. I never lie, not even to protect someone’s feelings. I can be blunt to the point of being rude at times. I am a busy person; I don’t have time to protect someone’s feelings.

On the other hand, I am also generous to a fault. I am the person who will give you a place to stay if you need one. I’ll give you money if you find yourself in a fix, even if it’s my last dollar. I will stand up for you when you need a friend. But don’t lie to me ever, or you will find my boot on your neck. Figuratively, of course. Don’t cross me. I will seek my revenge. Oh, I almost forgot I am a jealous person.

I was kind of a shy person in high school. I didn’t date. I was always afraid of rejection. I lacked confidence in myself. That is until I was accepted into all of the colleges I applied to in my senior year of high school. I hit the ball out of the park when I took my SAT tests. I got the highest score possible, 1,600. I have to admit even I was shocked. Although, to tell the truth, nobody but nobody prepared themselves more for the SAT test than I did. I studied night and day and didn’t go out on weekends or during the summer. I didn’t date. I didn’t have time for a social life.

And all my hard work was rewarded in Spades when I was accepted at all the colleges I applied to. And they were all top-notched schools. I have to admit I had felt a little bigger, and so did my ego. I knew that when my college career began, I was going to excel there as well. I didn’t have to get a job because I got a full ride for four years of college. And one of the benefits I hoped to enjoy was my pick of the most beautiful undergraduate women I met.

I looked forward to the first day I walked across the campus. And I couldn’t believe how many beautiful co-eds were there. I knew I still had to work and study to continue my success. I knew it wasn’t going to be handed to me. But, I made a promise to myself that I, Joseph P. Harding, would graduate at the top of his senior class walking hand in hand with the most beautiful female in my graduation class.

It wasn’t going to be easy because I knew I would be working and studying almost every minute of the day. When I wasn’t in class. I kept my eyes open at all times, searching for that perfect partner. And then, one day, it happened, I saw her sitting across the room. She had long, red hair and blue eyes the color of a cloudy sky. A killer smile and a laugh that garnered everyone’s attention. It was like music to my ears. I knew, just knew she was the one.

I had to find a way of getting to know her without seeming too obvious. And by the end of the class, a solution was handed to me. When the professor said, you are going to have a project that would have to be completed by mid-term, and we were required to have a pardner. Can the person sitting at the front of each aisle please come up and get these handouts for each person in your aisle? The handout will explain the project and its perimeters.”

And I thought, ah-ha, that’s it. I’ll ask her to be my partner. I would find out if she would be the perfect fit for me. I wanted a woman that was not only beautiful but intelligent, quick, talented, and interesting. And whose focus was on being as successful as I was. And who knew what her goals were, not just immediate goals, but long-term goals.

And then I heard the professor calling out my name and telling me my partner was Helena Cox. And then, she asked us to both stand up and introduce ourselves to our partners and the class. And low and behold, the future love of my life stood up, as did I. Helena stood up and said it in a clear, beautiful voice. “My name is Helena Cox. I’m happy to meet you all.”

And then I stood up and said, “Hello, my name is Joseph P. Harding. And it’s privileged to meet you, Helena. I look forward to working with you and getting to know you.” I heard a few snickers from some of my classmates after my comment. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so transparent. I would have to be less transparent in the future. My face got a little red. But I promised myself I would be more careful in the future. The professor said, “please make plans to meet after class and discuss your topic and divide the workload. I don’t want any one person to be doing all the work. Is that understood?”

And everyone mumbled, “yes, sir.”

The professor said, “what did you say? I can’t hear you.”

And we all yelled out, “yes, sir.”

As I was leaving class that day, I felt someone tug my sleeve, and I turned in that direction, somewhat annoyed. I didn’t want to be late for my next class. I said, “yes, what? I don’t have a lot of time.”

And I turned and saw that beautiful face looking at me with those eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound so rude. I just can’t stand being late. It starts the class off on the wrong foot, doesn’t it? I’m on my way to Introduction to Freshman Literature. Where are you going?”

“Oh, that’s funny. That’s my next class too. Do you mind if I walk with you?”

“Mind? No, not at all. Sorry for seeming so abrupt. Let’s go. We can discuss any ideas we have for our project.”

“Well, there’s the library on the left. Why don’t we stop in there and read over the handout? We still have about twenty minutes before the next class.”

“OK, but I don’t want to be late. Oh, sorry. I just hate being late.”

“It’s OK, I don’t like to be late, but it should only take a couple of minutes.”

So, we went into the library and took the two closest empty seats. And we scanned the hand-outs. Helena was a faster reader than I, and she said, “oh, I think I have an idea already. How about if we write the report from an observer’s point of view? As if they were there observing it firsthand. What do you think?”

“I think that is a great idea. How about exchanging emails and phone numbers? And then we can think about it overnight and then talk about it when you have a free period this week.”

“That’s a great idea, Helen. I have Wednesday, third period open. How about you?”

“Wow, that is really a coincidence, Joseph. I have that period open as well. It’s almost like fate wanted us to work together.” And I gazed into her eyes.

She looked at me and then looked away. “Well, I don’t know about that. but it does seem like good luck.”

“Everybody calls me Joe.”

“OK, Joe. I’ll see you then.”

The rest of the day, I had difficulty concentrating. My mind kept flashing back to Helen. I knew it wasn‘t a good idea to start focusing my attention on a girl I hardly knew. When I needed to keep my energy on school and moving forward. But there was something about her that drew me to her.

On Wednesday, Joe had trouble concentrating on any of his classes. He kept obsessing about meeting Helen at the library during the third period. The third-period bell finally rang, and Joe all but flew out of his chair and out the door to the library. He made a pit stop at the men’s laboratory to check his hair and use the bathroom.

When he arrived at the library, he peaked in the door to see if Helen had arrived.  He could see her sitting at a table in the back of the room. There were several people sitting there already, but there was still one empty seat. He had hoped that he could get some alone time with her. This was going to make it more difficult for him to ask her out.

Joe walks nonchalantly to the table. Then he notices the guy touch Helen’s arm. This immediately set off alarms in his head that he didn’t know what to do. His first impulse was to knock the guy’s hand off her arm. But he managed to get hold of himself at the last minute. Joe took a deep breath and then walk over to Helen and said, “hello Helen, do you still have time to talk to me about the project we have to work on together?

“Sure, by the way, this is my boyfriend, Charles. He is a year ahead of me. So, he has been showing me the ropes and all the professors. And he knows about all the great places to go in the area. I’m sure he would be willing to share the info with you.”

Joe’s jaw felt like it fell to the floor when she said, “boyfriend.” And he almost shouted, boyfriend, out loud. He was so relieved that he managed to control himself at the last second. What he did say was, “oh, you didn’t mention you had a boyfriend.”

Helen stared at him blankly for a moment and said, “well, there wasn’t any reason to. we are just working on a project together. We don’t even know each other. We just met in class the other day.”

“Oh, sure, of course. Sorry. Do you have time to discuss our project?”

“You know Joe; perhaps it might be better if you and I found other partners. I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m going to talk to the professor about it right now.” Then Helen leaned in and gave her boyfriend a kiss.

Joe’s face turned bright red, and he felt like he was going to explode. He abruptly turned away and walked out of the library. He decided he better go outside and take a walk until he calmed down. This was not the first time something like this had happened to him. He had a tendency to get carried away. And believing that girls liked him just because he liked them. And then he would get very angry when he realized they didn’t. And the one time he did have a “real” girlfriend, he didn’t trust her and would stalk her wherever she went.

Eventually, the parents of the girl made a police complaint about him. And he was forced to take counseling and wasn’t allowed to go near the girl again, or he would be arrested. He had been warned about this behavior, but he didn’t seem to have any control over his feelings. He felt overwhelming jealousy whenever he was attracted to someone and expected those feelings to be reciprocated, but they never were because he became so possessive.

Joe sat down on a bench, trying to calm down. He decided he just needed to give Helen more time, and she would come to care about him the same way he felt about her. He decided he was going to clandestinely follow her and then gradually bump into her once in a while until they became friends. And she would come to realize that she really did love him as much as he loved her. And she would dump her loser boyfriend. And then they would end up together forever. He just knew it.

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SHOPPING DAY

Produce Section

Every  Monday, I go food shopping at the Food Lion. I do not enjoy food shopping at all. I’m not a big eater, and I’m on a sugar-free diet.

I made the decision recently to make  shopping more interesting. Last week I came up with the idea of picking out one of my fellow food shoppers and watching them as I shop. I will observe what kind of foods they purchase, what kind of car they drive, and what, if any, interaction they have with other people who are also shopping or working in the store.

I’ve always been a people watcher. I enjoy observing people over time and trying to figure out what makes them tick. Let’s say I’m a student of human nature and leave it at that. I don’t want to hear any of you bringing up the word stalker. That’s just a bunch of hooey. Besides, I just got a little carried away that last time. I was let go with a warning.

I pull into the driveway leading to the parking lot of the Food Lion. A car catches my eye. It’s a hot pink 1965 Caddy. Pristine condition. I know whoever is driving this car is the one for me. Unless there are children in the car. I avoid them like the plague. Somehow kids have a sixth sense about me and start crying and whining as soon as they see me. Dogs too, they start off whining and then bark non-stop.

I drive to the next parking aisle and pull in opposite the hot, pink Caddy and wait to see who emerges. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent certain a woman will step out of the car. Not too many men have the cajones to drive a pink Caddy.

And sure, enough a woman who looks to be about mid-thirties steps out of the car. And ever so gently closes the driver’s side door and locks it. Then she gives the car a pat on the hood and leans over. It looks as if she is whispering something to her car. She starts walking toward the entrance, and the automatic door opens for her. She takes one last look back at her car and smiles. Her smile grabs me by my heart and gives it a squeeze. She’s the one.

I walk slowly towards the entrance. I don’t want to give myself away. I have to remain anonymous. But don’t worry I’m an expert at fading into the background. She’ll never know I’m there. I see her grab a cart, and she wipes it down with from top to bottom. She takes out a second wipe and cleans off the handle slowly from one side to the other.

And she heads towards the Produce Department. I pick up one of the small grocery baskets and walk over to the wine and beer aisle. I place a bottle of wine in my basket. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t buy wine in a grocery store. But I don’t want to call attention to myself by following her into the Produce Department. And I want to keep her in my field of vision.

I can see her clearly now. She has her hair dyed hot pink, the same color as her Caddy. Her lips are red, deep red, like blood. She is wearing skin-tight jeans and a sleeveless tank top. She is extremely fit looking. She has on a pair of hand-tooled boots. My heart is beating hard. I have to stop for a moment to catch my breath.

She heads over to the meat department and picks up two large steaks. She steps up to the counter where you order lunchmeat to place an order. The butcher gives her a broad smile and whispers something in her ear. I feel my face turning red and a lump in my throat. Suddenly, I feel so angry. I almost shout, “Get away from her.” But, at the last moment, I clap my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I almost lost it. I decide to take a few moments to calm myself down. This has only happened once before and it did not end well. I know I need to calm down or I will have to leave before I give myself away altogether.

I walk over to the water cooler and cup my hands and then put the cold water on my face. I slow down my breathing until I feel myself gaining control of my emotions. Slowly, I walk back towards the aisle where I last saw her. I look up and down, nothing. God, what if she left while I was freaking out. I’ll never have another chance with someone like her. I’m so angry at myself. Suddenly, I realize someone is staring at me. It’s the store manager, Joseph Taylor. He lives in my neighborhood.

“Mr. Jenkins. Are you all alright? I thought for a moment that you were going to get sick, or pass out or something?”

“What, no, no I’m fine. I’m just getting over the flu. And I felt a bit sick to my stomach that’s all. It’s probably because I haven’t eaten today. Thanks for asking.”

I head down towards the refrigerated aisle. I think she’s having company for dinner and she has everything except dessert. Finally, I see her standing in front of the ice cream cases. She looks at it for a moment and then pulls open the door. I see she’ picks chocolate-chip mint. Oh my god, that’s my all-time favorite. It’s clear that this was meant to be. We were meant to be.

I follow about four feet behind her. I drop a couple of items in my basket. She walks toward the first cash register and grabs a bunch of flowers. She has thought of everything. We are going to have such a great time tonight. I can hardly wait.

She walks over to the ten items or less lane. I can’t hear her conversation but she seems to be overly friendly to the cashier. A good-looking young man about twenty years old. His face is flushing as he laughs at some joke, she tells him.

I feel like my head is going to explode, how dare she flirt with that young man. She belongs to me. I’m going to have to teach her how to behave. She is acting like a slut and I can’t tolerate any woman of mine flirting with another man. It is just not acceptable. My head begins to pound.

The cashier is putting her purchases in bags. And handing the bags over to her. I can’t help but notice that every time he hands her a bag, he” accidentally” touches her hands. And then she smiles and him and laughs.

And that is when I see red. I’m not imagining it. I actually see red. I scream out at the top of my lungs, “what the hell are you doing” Keep your hands to yourself.”

I throw down my shopping basket and launch myself at the young man over the counter. I’m, “get away from her, she belongs to me.”

And the next thing I remember is I’m lying on the filthy floor and my hands are cuffed and I’m being dragged to my feet by two burly policemen. They are reading me the Miranda rights, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

“What the hell is going on? Why am I in cuffs? I wasn’t doing anything but protecting my woman. That filthy young man was putting his hands all over her. He was molesting her. She belongs to me.”

“What?  I don’t know that man. I’ve never seen him before. He is some kind of mental case. No one was molesting me. I was just paying for my purchases. And this nutjob flies over the counter and starts choking this young man.”

“Yes, mam.  We understand that but you and the young man are going to have to go to the police station and make a statement. We know this man here. He has a history of stalking. He just recently got out of prison for abducting a young woman and keeping her against her will for three months.”

“What? Oh my god. Why me, I never even saw him before. Why me?”

‘Well, you do fit the profile of the type of women he is attracted to, obviously, he is mentally ill. You will have to testify against him. He is going to go away for a long time. Since he has broken his probation by this assault and stalking you.”

“Stalking me, he was stalking me?”

“Yes, it certainly appears that way.”

That is when I am pulled up to my feet by my handcuffed hands and dragged out the Food Lion door. I really lost it when  I realize I’m about to be thrown into the squad car. I start screaming at the top of my lungs,” What the hell are you doing? I was just trying to protect my woman, that man was accosting her. You have no reason to arrest me. I was trying to protect her.”

“Mr. Jenkins, I suggest you keep quiet and not further incriminate yourself. Wait until we get to the police station and talk to your lawyer. Now duck your head and get in the back seat. Before I charge you with resisting arrest. Do you understand?”

I  plop down in the seat. I look longingly at the Pink Caddy. I want so much to be sitting in that car with my woman. What kind of cockeyed justice do we have in this country anyway? When an innocent man can’t even protect the woman he loves?

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