I am a Devious Stalker. Women: Fear Me.

I have a little story to tell, but I'm going to tell it to you from two different perspectives. The first perspective is my own. The second is that of the poor girl who I victimized the other day.

The Story: My Perspective

I roll out of bed at nine o'clock AM. That's early by college standards, or at least by mine. I was supposed to wake up at 8:40, but I utilized my five minute snooze alarm four glorious times. Do the math. Nonetheless, it's the second day of the quarter, and I don't want to be late for the first lecture of my literature class.

I feel some light hunger pains as I often do in the morning, and groggily proceed to the kitchen. Ah, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, my sugar sprinkled whole grain goddess. My vision is still unfocused and my motor skills are yet to arrive at full functionality, but miraculously milk and cereal find their way to the bowl and do their happy little dance, only to be devoured by my flemmy morning maw.

Oh crap, I shouldn't have poured two bowls. What time is it? I've got fifteen minutes to be down there. I get dressed. In slow morning motion, this takes about five minutes. Damn, ten minutes to go. I take a quick glance in the mirror. Hey there, good looking. There's still sleep in my reumy eyes, and pronounced dark rings beneath them. My hair is ridiculous; a warzone of sorts.

But there's no time, no time to deal with such details. With my consiousness still floating a foot or so outside my skull, I grab a notebook and a pencil and make my way out the door into the cold, clear morning air.

A few minutes later...

Alright, there's no such thing as a short walk at UC Santa Cruz, but I'm almost there. I can see the building that is my destination about 100 yards ahead. Oh look, a little short cut through the woods. I'll take that. There's a girl walking about 6 feet ahead of me who appears to have the same idea. Good for her. She's very blonde, but I don't notice much else. I'm too tired and my balls haven't kicked in yet. Whatever. My balls are a pair of idiots, asleep or otherwise.

Just ahead, the path forks two ways. I know I'm going left. My class room is only a few feet further in that direction. Just before reaching this divergence, however, the blonde girl turns around, and in a rather confrontational tone, decides to start quizzing me. "Excuse me, what class are you going to?"

I do a double take. Why are you asking me this? "Um, I'm going to..." Wait, where am I going? I'm still groggy and it's my first day. Is this my finance class or my literature class? I know one comes after the other. I take a shot at it. "Economics 60, I mean, uh..." An awkward pause ensues as I stumble on my words. I wind up just looking at her, confused.

"Heh, no, really. What class are you going to?" She seems... unsettled... and accusatory. The grinding gears in my brain finally snap back into their proper positions. "Lit class, I'm going to my lit class, it's right around the corner here." I go left, she goes right.

I arrive at the lecture hall and take a seat. Then it finally dawns on me. She was accusing me of following her. In broad day light. Minutes before the start of class. I wanted to run back outside and take a leak on her leg. There, now you can feel threatened, you little tart. Hey, I know you were probably taught to think all men are creeps until proven otherwise in your Womyn's Studies class, but I'm still taking it personally. Bite me.


The Story: Blondie's Perspective

Okay, like, I totally met, like, the creepiest guy the other day! So I woke up at about seven o'clock to get ready for class at nine-thirty. I wanted to sleep in, but you know, I need to make sure I look nice so my girlfriends won't call me fat behind my back.

Anyway, first I took a shower and tried out this new conditioner. It's called Laureal Pure Shine Rejuvination Shimmer Extravaganza-X12!!! My hair was looking totally fab! Then I shaved my legs and "accidently" cut myself a few times. Woopsies! At least I won't weigh as much with less blood in me!

I blow dried my hair and did my toe nails for like fifteen minutes. My toes are like, so fat! I hate myself. I read on my friend's myspace that you can learn to walk after a couple months of physical therepy if you lose a few toes. Hmmm. Lose a few toes = lose a few pounds? Plus physical therepists are totally hot! I need to lose weight. I can count only 22 out of 24 ribs.

It was only 8:30 at this point so I went on livejournal and wrote about my day so far. I also bought 500 dollars worth of designer jeans and halter tops with daddy's credit card, which he lets me use for anything I want. Then I checked my tampon supply because I'm a girl and have periods which means I need tampons. (Author's note: See? I can write women just fine.)

I felt kinda hungry, but eating is for fat girls. I pigged out anyway and had a baby carrot with hummus for breakfast. Then I threw up. Oh well. At least I got to change outfits again! Then I went to class.

So, then, like, this totally gross guy, like, was following me on this path through the woods on the way to class. He was like, wearing a t-shirt and jeans which is totally Gross because they weren't even designer jeans. He should totally get with the metrosexual craze because doesn't he know girls only feel comfortable around guys who at least look and act gay? I could tell he was totally checking me out, because he was like, facing in my general direction, and guys just like checking me out ok? He was even carrying this notebook which I bet he uses to draw sketches of the girls he stalks or something.

I decided I'd try to catch him off guard by asking him what class he was going to. When I did he looked surprised because, like I totally caught him. He just started mumbling like the little pervert that he is. Then he said he was going to his lit class, which I think is a new way to say clit, which is short for clitoris. What a perv! He was totally hot.

Mood: Weirded Out!!!1 8^()

FIN.

Yes, this really did happen, at least in the first iteration.