Once every couple of weeks I call a friend of mine and leave a message on the phone saying something along these lines:
“Mr. XXX called me and left a crazy message about putting a spell on me, so if I turn up murdered in the next week or so, it was probably him.”
I never really mark anyone off this list, as who knows what can happen. I want every suspect named. I would say the list is probably at least ten strong.
I’ve come to the point where I must ask myself, “Why do I end up with so many crazy stalkers? Is it me?”
An old college roommate used to joke that I had some sort of invisible sign that beaconed all crazies. I certainly don’t seek them out. I’m not hanging around mental wards waiting for discharges. But if there is a crazy man singing obscenities on the street corner, he is bound to stop and have a conversation with me. He may even propose to me. If there is a crazy, single, somewhat attractive man- he is bound to ask me out.
So I must wonder what it is I’m doing, and if there is a way I can emit this powerful non-verbal signal to David Duchovney? I am not one of those girls who endures the craziness thinking they’ll turn normal. No sir. As soon as the signs signal, I’m out. Well, except for the foreign professor, but he was one hot rubix cube of craziness.
Because of my vast experience in this realm, let me give you a few dead giveaways:
1. You allow him to speak to you at a bar for a few minutes, then turns angry when you won’t let him escort you home
2. He texts you after just meeting you. Three, four, five times without you answering. Then claims you’re ignoring him.
3. He calls you his girlfriend after 3.2 seconds on a first date
4. He claims you are a witch who has cast a spell over him
5. He tells you that “he’s doubled his medication, so he’s doing really well”
Good luck. That is, good luck having better luck than I do.