Tag Archives: stalking

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold

I’ve been dating my boyfriend Gregory since I was in the ninth grade. I just graduated from Temple University. The sad truth is that Gregory and I no longer have anything in common.

When I first met Gregory, I thought he was the most handsome boy I ever met. He was outgoing and funny. Wherever Gregory was in the room, there was sure to be a crowd of people around him laughing. Every girl I knew envied me, and wanted Gregory for themselves. Gregory ignored them all. He was loyal to me and didn’t even look at all the girls that tried to seduce him away from me. He was the smartest person I ever met. And not only that he was a star quarterback throughout high school. He received a full-ride scholarship to Vanderbilt University.

Everything comes easily to Gregory. I have to admit he’s a gifted person. In fact, no matter how hard I examined him I can’t find a single fault. So, therein lies the problem. Gregory is too perfect. He excels at everything with very little effort. Everyone loves him, and admires him. Wants to be him. 

I know I should consider myself lucky to have Gregory and in the beginning, I did. But over time, I noticed that there was a subtle shift in my feelings for and about Gregory.

I began to resent that Gregory was always in the limelight, always the center of attention, always the STAR. I knew I needed to break up with him before I began to loathe him. He hadn’t done anything to deserve my hate. He was the perfect boyfriend. I know he was going to ask me to marry him after he decided which professional football team, to sign a contract with.

I didn’t want to be known as so and so’s wife. Always on the sidelines, the devoted spouse. Yes, yes, I know. All I had to do is be a loving and faithful wife, and everything I ever dreamed of having would be mine. I would have a gorgeous home, designer clothing, an expensive car, and be able to travel all over the world if that is what I wanted to do.

I’ve tried to talk to Gregory about how I felt, that I had dreams and goals of my own. He would say, sure, sure Babe, whatever you want, and off he would go. After months of delaying the decision to leave Gregory, I finally took the final step and broke up with him.

I admit the timing wasn’t perfect. In fact, I chose the worse time to do it. The afternoon before dinner Gregory’s friends were throwing him a victory party for getting a contract with the New England Patriots.

We were having lunch on the patio of our house. It was such a beautiful day. Early that morning there had been a Spring shower, and the sun had just shown its face and raindrops on the grass were glistening like diamonds in the sand. I had been struggling for weeks trying to decide the best way to tell Gregory about my decision.

I decided the most painless method was to just tell him all at once. Quick and painless I thought. I’ve been trying to tell him in a million different ways over the past year. And he kept blowing me off. If Gregory doesn’t want to hear something, he just refuses to hear it.

I had already packed up all my earthly belongings, the ones that matter anyway, and had them in the trunk of my car. Gregory hadn’t even noticed. I left all the expensive jewelry he had ever given me on my dresser. Jewelry was never important to me. I had told him time, and again I didn’t need it, didn’t want it. He just never heard me.

I was taking the last bite of my gourmet lunch. Oh, I forgot to mention that Gregory is a gourmet cook. On this particular day, Gregory had outdone himself. He had made a chilled Wild Pacific Confit Salmon with a Harissa Sauce, Quinoa & Arugula Salad, and fresh pears with Honey-Sea Salt Cornbread with Local Spiced Apple Butter. As I reflected on this lunch, I considered it my last meal with Gregory. And I have to admit I enjoyed that meal. It was delicious, and I would miss his cooking. It marked the end of an era in my life.

“Gregory, I have something to tell you.”

“Christine, please don’t spoil this day. You know I have been looking forward to this for a long time. And every time you preface a conversation with, “I have something to tell you.” I know I’m not going to like it. Can you just spare me the drama today? Let’s just have a nice day, can’t we?”

“I’m sorry Gregory. I’ve tried to tell you how I’ve been feeling many, many times. You just refuse to listen to me. So no, it can’t wait. I’m leaving you, Gregory. Today. This is our last meal together. I’m unhappy. I don’t want to be a cheerleader for you anymore. I care about you, I admire your intelligence, creativity, and ambition. But I have the desire to succeed and grow too. And there just doesn’t seem to be enough space in your life for me to do that.”

“What are you talking about? I never tried to stop you from anything you wanted to do, Christine.”

“Yes, you have Gregory. It’s not blatant. You didn’t say, No, I forbid you to do this or that. But you did discourage me from going back to get my Master’s degree. Because it was inconvenient timing. When I wanted to go to Europe for six months after I graduated. You said maybe later.”

“I never said no, I just said later, Christine.”

“Gregory, later never comes. I have all my belongings packed, I’ve rented a small apartment off-campus, I got a part-time job, and I’m going to get my Masters and my Ph.D. I don’t need your help. I’m sorry I’ll be missing your big dinner, but I’m sure you’ll have all the attention from your groupies that will more than make up for me not cheering you on. Although Gregory, I do wish you all the success in the world. Take care, Gregory. I’m going to be leaving now.”

And that’s when I noticed the expression on Gregory’s face changed from annoyance to anger. I never saw that expression on his face before. I hardly recognize him. He didn’t say another word to me. He just stared at me with what I can only say looked like hatred. I think it was the first time Gregory didn’t get what he wanted.

I moved into my apartment. I think it is what people called an efficiency apartment. In that, it was really just one big room with a tiny kitchen, a living room space, and an area next to the kitchen where I put my bed and bedside table. And there was a tiny bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. There was only one small closet. So, I had to leave most of my out-of-season clothing in storage. But it was mine, all mine. No one to tell where everything should be and what looked right and what didn’t. I loved every inch of that apartment because it was mine.

For the first several days, I didn’t hear from Gregory. Nothing. Nothing at all. I thought good, he is going to act like a grown man this time. He is just accepting that things have changed and moved on with his life, no drama, no theatrics.

But then, little things started happening. I didn’t think too much about it at the time. I just thought, “well, that’s weird.” And then I forgot about it. I received several hang-up calls on my cell phone. But I didn’t recognize the phone number. But that happens to everyone at one time or another, hang-ups.

Then about two weeks later, I started having accidents. I was going down the two flights of steps from my apartment to the street, and the steps were oddly slippery. The first time I fell down about six steps before I was able to grab the banister and stop myself from falling down all the way. I got up and quickly looked around because I thought someone might have seen me fall.

And then the next time I fell, it was because the banister came off in my hands when I went to grab it after I slipped on the steps. Not only did I fall down the flight of steps, but I nearly clobbered myself in the head when I made a grab for the banister and nearly hit myself in the head. After I managed to get myself up off the floor and dust myself off, I examined the banister it had been neatly sawed in two places and then put back in place. It was deliberate.

I called up the manager of the apartment building, and he apologizes and said he has no idea how such a thing could happen, but he’ll send the maintenance guy over to repair it today. And when I arrive home later that day, it had been replaced. The next couple of weeks flew by without any unexpected occurrences. So, I just put it down to bad luck and forgot about it.

I was working part-time in a restaurant that Gregory and I used to frequent. I was lucky to get a job here because it was a high-end place, and the tips were generous. And then, one night, as I was clearing one of the tables in my section, I noticed that Gregory had just come into the restaurant with a young woman that was so beautiful that even I could not take my eyes off of her. She was well over six feet tall and had long blond hair down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a dress that barely covered her ass. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and the front neckline was so low you could almost see her belly button.

I said a little prayer that they wouldn’t sit in my section. But, unfortunately, they did. After they were seated, I walk towards their table with menus and plastered a smile on my face. I walk slowly over to their table. I hand them their menus, smiled at them, and said,” good evening, hello, Gregory. So nice to see you. Can I get you a beverage or a drink while you look at the menus?”

“Hello, Christine, so nice to see you. So, this is the dream job?”

“No, this is a job that pays the rent while I finish my Master’s. Are you ready to give me your order, or would you like some time to study the menus for a bit?” I look at him and wish I could smack the smirk off his face. I just smile. His date doesn’t react at all. She obviously doesn’t know who I was and why he brought her to this particular restaurant.

After they finish their dinner, I walk over to their table. Would you like to look at the dessert menu or have a refill on your coffees? Gregory said, “what would you like to recommend?”

“Well, the lemon cake is delicious. I know you would enjoy that. And there’s a Raspberry-lemon mouse that is to die for.”

“Camella, what would you like?”

“Oh, I don’t know; they both sound delicious. I’ll get whatever you are getting, Gregory.”

“Gregory looks up at Christine and says, “you heard her. We’ll have Lemon cake. It has always been my favorite. And two coffees too. That will be all.”

Christine put on her biggest smile and says, “I’ll be back in a few moments.”  And then she turns and walks away. There is no way she is going to let Gregory think he has the ability to upset her or make her jealous. She just doesn’t care one way or the other how he felt.

After Christine delivers the desserts, she says, “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that will be all.” And he looks away from Christine and starts talking rapidly. His date’s eyes open wide with a surprised look on her face.

When Christine looks at the table, they had left. She finds a $5.00 tip on it. She picks it up and stuffs it in her apron pocket. Wow, he was really being a jerk.

About three weeks later, she receives a phone message. It sounds like an older man’s voice, and it seems familiar. “Good Morning. This is Dean Sheridan at Temple MS program of Science and Technology. I am trying to contact Christine Brown. Could you please call my office asap?”

Christine picks up the phone and looks at the phone number, and sees it was the Dean’s office. She calls him back and listens while the phone rings four times. She was about to hang up when finally, a male voice said,” Hello, this is Dean Sheridan. Can I help you?”

“Hello, Dean Sheridan. This is Christine Brown here, returning your call. What can I do for you?”

“Ms. Brown, I’m sorry, but I have some bad news for you. The benefactor that was providing the funding for the opening of the Master’s Program has pulled his funding. I’m so sorry. This happens sometimes. I’ve been trying to find contributions from some of our more generous alumni. But so far, no luck. I’m going to keep trying. However, I suggest you start applying to other universities asap, just in case. I’ll hand your call over to my assistant, and she will give you their contact information. Again, I’m so sorry to disappoint you. You would have been a great asset to our program. If you are able to secure funding somehow, please inform me. “

Christine felt crushed. She had worked so hard to get this far, and she couldn’t believe the rug was being pulled out from under her this late in the game. The classes were supposed to start in three weeks. It was too late to apply to other programs. She realizes she will have to start applying all over for next semester and seek scholarships or grants. There was no way she could afford it on a waitress’s pay. Maybe she could get a second job and save enough money to reapply next year. She feels a tear run down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away. There is no way she’s going to start feeling sorry for herself. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, and she has a long road to travel before she reaches her goal.

About six months later, Christine receives a letter informing her that her building had been sold and she has to seek new housing and vacate her apartment by the end of the month. Christine just couldn’t believe the bad luck that had come her way in the last six months. It was so expensive to move and time-consuming. And she has to find another apartment that’s affordable. Which is no easy task. She calls all her friends to see if they know of any cheap apartments in the area. The last person she calls is her old friend, Sheila.

“Hello, Sheila, this is Christine. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while, but I’ve been working 24/7, trying to save money for my MS classes. First, I lost my scholarship and grants and my place in Temple’s MS program. And today, I received a letter stating that I had three weeks to move out of my apartment. My building is being sold.  Anyway, I was wondering if you know of any cheaper apartments or even anyone looking for a roommate near Temple University? Oh, and how are you, my bad,”

“Hello Christine, yeah, I did hear through the grapevine that you really had a bad string of bad luck, I should have called, but you know how life gets in the way. No, I don’t know anyone, or any place for that matter. But why don’t you contact Gregory? His father owns a lot of residential property in the Temple University area near Broad Street. In fact, doesn’t he own the apartment building where your studio apartment is located?”

“What, I didn’t know that? Gregory never mentioned it. Oh, I knew they were wealthy. But I never really asked about where their money came from. It just didn’t interest me. I’ll have to look into that. Thanks for the info. I’ll let you know what happens. So, what have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh, same old, same old. I’m finishing up my dissertation. And after that, I’m taking a sabbatical and going to do some traveling before I start teaching. That is if all goes well with my dissertation.”

“Really, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked to get this far. You deserve every success.”

“Thank you, girlfriend. It’s been a long hard road, but I’m near the end. Please let me know if you find an apartment. You know you can count on me to help you move.”

After Christine hangs up, she starts thinking about the string of bad luck she had experienced in the last several months. And a lightbulb goes off in her head. It all started when she broke up with Gregory. And now she finds out that Gregory’s father owns the building she lives in. She decides to go to the library and find out if it was true that Gregory’s father owned her building. She didn’t want to believe that Gregory would be so mean-spirited as to cause her to become homeless.

After several hours of researching properties, she’s told by the librarian the best thing she can do is go to the county seat and look at their records to find out just who owned the apartment complex she lives in. And with the clerk’s help, she’s able to find out that it is Gregory’s father, Stewart Landers, does indeed own that building and several others in the Temple University area. Most of these are occupied by poor students who eke out a living as waiters and waitresses or nannies for rich people in the Society Hill area of Philadelphia.

Christine contacts Gregory’s father’s office and asks to speak to him. She identifies herself as a family friend. When He comes on the line, she says, “Hello, Mr. Landers. This is Christine Brown. I used to date your son, Gregory.”

“I know who you are, Ms. Brown. Gregory was brokenhearted when you broke up with him. We were all fond of you. And we hoped you and Gregory would marry. Mr. Landers, I’m sorry I hurt Gregory, but I wasn’t ready to get married. I wanted to finish school and get my MS. And then possibly go on to get my doctorate. And then I want to teach. I tried to tell you this to Gregory for a long time. But he didn’t want to hear about it.”

“Well, these things happen, and it looks like Gregory has moved on. He has been dating a beautiful young lady who just graduated at the top of her class from Sarah Lawrence. Perhaps a better fit than you two. No offense. So, what can I do for you? What’s this all about?

“I was just informed by my landlord that my building was being sold, and I had to move out.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But what has that got to do with my family and me?”

“You own the building.”
“I do? Where is it?

“It is in downtown Philadelphia in the Temple University area. A great many students live there. I’m one of them, and I was just notified that I had to move out. It’s the Edge Student Village.”

“Oh, yes, that’s one of my buildings. I gave that building to Gregory as an investment for his future. He didn’t tell me he was going to sell it. I will contact him and see what I can do about this situation. Of course, if he already sold it, there isn’t much I can do about it. Of course, I could probably find other housing for you. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I would appreciate that, and I’m really in a desperate situation I’m living day to day. I can’t really afford to move again so soon.”

Two days later, Gregory’s father calls Christine back and says, I talked to Gregory, and he said he hadn’t filed the final papers. He knew that was your building, and he wanted you to feel helpless. He thought you might come back to him if you had no place to go. I guess he is still in love with you.”

“Mr. Landers, if he really loved me, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hurt me. He would want the best for me. He just wants to control me, and that is something I could never live with. I want Gregory to be happy, but I don’t think that, ultimately, we would have been happy together. We want completely different things in life.”

“Yes, I can see that. He is still a very young man and has a lot to learn about life yet. I’m sorry, he told me how angry he was at you and some other things he had done to get your attention. And for all of that, I apologize. Your building is not going to be sold. You can stay there until you are finished with your education. I hope you will forgive him and move on with your life. I have warned him to do the same.”

“Thank you so much for your help.”

“Good luck, young lady.”

Christine hangs up the phone with a sigh of relief. She fixes herself a cup of coffee and sits and down, and takes a deep breath. And at just that moment, the doorbell rings. Christine goes to the door and looks through the peephole, and sees an eye looking back at her. “Who’s there”

“I have a delivery for Christine Brown.”

Christine opens the door. And a young man stands there with a huge bouquet of long-stemmed yellow roses, her favorite. “Oh no”, she says.

She hands a dollar to the delivery man and takes the flowers. Inside there is a note that says, “All is forgiven. I’ll be over at 7:30 PM to take you out to eat at our favorite restaurant. Eternal love, Gregory.”

“Oh no, this is going to be much harder than I thought”,  she says out loud. And then she closes the door and locks the two locks and the chain.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

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?

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.