After that initial niceness, I ignored him but that led to him following me home every day from school trying to make me realise how much he liked me. I mean, Jesus it was hard to ignore him. Whilst walking home he would cast a shadow over me that I would have to ignore all the way home! Then came the 'piss taking': I teamed up with the two Michaels and we tormented him and his taxidermist friend for a whole school year. This didn't work though he proceeded in asking me to his formal.
I was so relieved to be in tec away from this guy but alas, along came the 'mutual friend' - the girl I started work with - kept telling me about how much she had already heard about me from Colm Quinn. A guy called Gareth from my religion class told me also about how my stalker (I feel this term is justified) had told everyone at Dixons how I went with him to his formal, which (funnily enough) was on the exact same night as Pete's formal. Changing phone numbers was not enough he always found out the new one and even found out where I was going out. I went out with some girls from work to the Limelight and guess who was there?
He bought me drinks leaving them on the table and walking off staring at me to see if I drank them. Well, no thank you I dont accept Jack Daniels and rohypnol from anyone! I just lifted the drinks and poured them on the table. Of course I was followed by my shadow to the taxi rank, it's a bit hard to be inconspicuous when you're like eight foot tall.
It's been constant harassment for years and it was grinding me down until I realised I was being pathetic not realising he was actually just a complete wab and not remotely scary.
I'll leave this with a final thought, I have a gorgeous, regular sized boyfriend with a fantastic personality as a bonus. But still, I recieved this text message :
"This is ur last chance 4 a great night with me come away with me."
I'll not sicken you with what else followed needless to say I won't be leaving Pete for an apparently 'great night' with a near -eight foot tall idiot stalker who needs professional help as well as a padded cell and straight jacket. If only it was like 'One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest' I would then consider being in the same room as him to watch him having a full labotomy - which in turn gives me a reason to smother him with a pillow.
