Confessions of A Naughty Girl

Taking "Stalk", Or The "Where's Waldo?" Approach to Dating

Three weeks ago I made a bet with one of my good friend that I had two months to run game on my "person of interest". Robert, ever the helpful buddy, thought that setting a deadline for me might incentivize me to get off my ass and...well, get some person of interest ass.

Here's the update: my estimated percentage of progress on this matter is 0%. Zero percent!

What has happened to my mojo? What has happened to the lingering "maneater" jokes thrown my way in college? In this case, I can no longer bat my Giant Green Bug eyes and mascara-ed lashes in my prey's direction and be guaranteed some attention. My Bug Eyes have failed me, and I can't figure out why.

What has happened, friends, is that this guy has me in knots for some mysterious reason. My charm's not off. My game is still great. I know this because I tested game on an ex last week and gotten not only the "all-clear" signal, but also a tempting offer for no-strings-attached sex (bonus). So it's not me, it's this guy. Every time I'm around this him, my tongue is tied and where intelligent, friendly conversation is concerned, I'm f*cked:

• Three weeks ago, he overheard me give a State of My Vagina address.
• Two weeks ago, at an office building barbecue, I voluntarily announced to him that "the pickles were my favorite part of lunch".
• This morning, he told me about an upcoming vacation and I proceeded to jokingly invite myself along and then sarcastically said, "Yeah! Thanks for inviting me!" like a jealous girlfriend.

I mean, who am I? For the love of Christ, I have no business acting jealous until I am his girlfriend, and even then, I still have to curb the jealous tendencies until we're solidly six months into the fake relationship I've already envisioned. Why don't I just boil a bunny and leave it on his stove? The guy must think I'm manic.

So, due to my lack of socially-acceptable behavior, I've resorted to trying to keep my mouth shut as often as possible around him and allow nonverbal signals - smiling, winking, and cupping my hand into a penis shape and mocking a blow job - do the talking for me. (The third signal is really just in there to reaffirm my desire for the guy in the event that he assumes that the first two are a contact lens issue.)

I've also resorted to "taking stalk", as I like to call it, which is a very fancy term for a concept that is - at an extreme level - a crime in 48 out of 50 states.

Don't panic - I'm not hiding in shrubbery or prank calling. I am simply trying to get to know him and "take stock" of the situation. I am doing things like putting in my daily check to his MySpace page to look at his relationship status, top friends, etc. I also Googled him in the hopes that I'd find an old State Track Meet record or something, but to know avail, as his name is somewhat common.

I am consistently checking up on his whereabouts and likelihood of hanging out with him in a group setting in the near future with a mutual friend, who I will call Mole. The poor girl, who I love to death, is practically programmed to peeping into his schedule every time a mass email goes out and we're all on it. Mole, by the way, is a most excellent friend. And every single time he is out somewhere, I am giving myself whiplash playing "Where's Waldo" and trying to figure out who he's talking to and what they're talking about and if he's having a good time and most importantly, what the likelihood of us ever going out on a date really is.

The third component of my "taking stalk" trifecta involves prayer, since Components 1 and 2 are not always foolproof. Since all I really do is look at his page and find out what's going on through my friend, prayer really becomes the cornerstone when all else fails. Y'all know I'm not a spiritual person, but if I had a dime for every time I prayed he'd randomly be at a bar on a night when I know I look good, or randomly pray he sends an email to his friend announcing how hot I am, but instead of addressing it to his friend he addresses to me so that his true intentions are revealed, I'd be a mother f*cking millionaire. No doubt.

I know this is an unhealthy habit, but it sure as hell is better than embarrassing myself any further. So until then, I will feel free to "take stalk". No shrubbery checks necessary.

posted by KA @ 10:14 PM