STORY # 0038

I had been working for a company as a temporary
employee when I was 24. My best friend Sean had helped
me get the job there and we'd often go to a nearby bar
after work and shoot the breeze.

He told me that one of the guys in his department was
interested in me and if I wanted him to set me up. I
remembered the guy as being kind of shy, glasses, nice
dresser though, around 34, and agreed. After all, I
hadn't really been on too many dates after my long
time relationship fizzled.

So, this guy Brian who was an engineer would come down
from his office and ask me to do little stuff for him.
He asked me out personally by saying that we should
have dinner out. I agreed. Afterwards, he wanted to go
somewhere private, but I opted for the bar that we all
hung out at. There was something odd about the way he
wanted to hold my hand the minute we were in the
presence of other people. I mean, I didn't even know
this guy, and when somebody would ask us if we wanted
a table, he'd grab my hand and hold on like it was a
lifeline.

We went to the bar, had a drink then went to our own
houses. I asked him about his place, but he just said
it was a littlle messy, so he wanted to clean it up
and then he would make me dinner there.

He kept trying to get me to go out but would stall
about his place saying he was still working on it. I
finally told his jokingly that I was worried that he
might have a body or something in there, and I thought
our next date should definitely be at his house.

The night finally arrived and from the moment I walked
into his duplex (which he rented from his boss) I was
overcome by ammonia and the reek of animal feces. I
thought I would pass out. He told me that he was
litter training his four new kittens and that he
didn't have the heart to throw them out in the cold
garage while he was at work. He said he had cleaned
for three hours, but the smell still wouldn't go away.
He apologized profusely and I felt bad for him...
after all, I'm an animal lover too.

We ended up going in the bedroom to get away from the
smell. Seems that it was the only room in the house
that he kept closed off from the cats.

One day after work, we all decided to go to our bar to
hang out. Once we got to the bar, he put his arm
around my neck. I mean, as in a chokehold with my
throat in the crook of his elbow. He acted as if he
were just casually putting his arm around my shoulder.
I was very uncomfortable and asked him to put his arm
down. He did, but five minutes later he was plastered
to me again. I finally told him to quit it and he
asked me to please go somewhere private with him. I
was really thinking of ending the relationship right
there, but decided it was more appropriate when we
were alone. So many things he did set my hair on end.
He skulked quietly behind me at work, was constantly
touching me in public, and he tried to tell me he knew
my heart inside and out. Did I mention that this guy
had not been on a date in 10 years before ours?

Anyway, once again at his house, he opened the door,
and the stench this time wafts from the living room
and rushes out the door as if the smell was trying to
escape some awful prison. Along all of the walls were
piles of cat feces three and four inches thick. Flies
had found the feces and buzzed around me. The ammonia
gave me an immediate headache and my eyes were
watering. It had only been two weeks since I had been
here! What the hell happened? Brian said that he was
so tired after work, he just didn't feel like cleaning
it up. I wanted to vomit. I had to go into his room to
be able to talk to him without choking. I explained
that he was just too attentive for me and we should
stop dating. He didn't say anything, he just put his
head down and I left after about 20 minutes of
silence.

The next week (my temp position had since ended at his
work) I went outside to clean my windows and found
about twenty of his cigarette buttes outside my
bedroom window. He had only been to my house once in
the time we went out, and he smoked out front with me.
That night, I saw his car parked across the street at
a convalescent hospital and when I pulled out of my
driveway, he followed for about a mile, then turned
around.

I asked my friend Sean if Brian was stalking me. All
he would say is, "It's in Brian's nature to want to
know what you are doing". Wha???? Is he stalking me or
not? Again, the same answer. Obviously Sean thought it
was harmless, so I didn't worry too much because I
know he would be the first to kick ass if anything
happened.
The last time I heard from Brian was when he called to
tell me that he had tried to commit suicide by leaving
his garage door closed with the engine running. By
this point, I was so sickened by him that I just said,
"So, did it work?"




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