Now Accepting Applications

I’ve always had a thing for stalkers; men who think that even if a woman NEVER answers her phone and NEVER responds to emails or texts, but still think maybe this time will be it. Maybe today will be the magical day that hell freezes over and she will suddenly look down at her ringing phone and think to herself, “Wow! I’ve been completely neglecting my friendship with him! I’m going to pick up and go out with him and marry him and have a bunch of his babies.” She will wonder why she hadn’t returned any of those incessant calls where the guy always leaves his number five times, just in case her caller I.D. doesn’t work and just in case it never worked the 18 other times he called that day and the hundreds of texts he left in the weeks, months, and years prior. And just like that, his prayers will be answered. That woman who he met for five minutes at the grocery store while she was in line innocently buying an EPT and Plan B, or the one who hesitated while handing him a business card at a work event for getting the mentally ill jobs in the functional world, or the woman who was politely reminded by her mother that her number wasn’t actually 867-5309 will finally come to grips with the inevitable truth; they will live happily ever after. I really love these men.

Most women find these men annoying and obnoxious. They may even pick up just to tell the guy he’s dreaming and to go to hell. Some women won’t even give their numbers out in the first place. They will vaguely mention a boyfriend or recent divorce and manage to work around exchanging any communicational tool at all to avoid awkwardly dealing with said creeper. Some women pity such men. They feel bad and to a degree try to justify how strange and socially awkward the guy is by telling their friends (and themselves) that he is just a lonely man who wants a friend. We all know this is bullshit and they will, in due course, probably make up a lie about how they met someone or magically got married in Vegas one weekend or discovered God and became a nun. A handful of women will just ignore the calls, delete the messages, and roll their eyes, not giving it much more consideration than if it was a wrong number dialing in. Then there are women like me. The ones who love these men for all that they are and appreciate them.

I have a natural affinity towards a man with such diligence and persistence that regardless of how many times he is shot down, he gets right back up and tries again. Stalkers are today’s equivalent to knights in shining armor only no one is giving them credit. No one said the guy who cut through growing thorn bushes and forests and fought off a dragon to get to Sleeping Beauty was creepy. Everyone from age two and up seems to think that the fact a guy meets a woman once when they are babies and then he goes to such extremes that he could die, and some of his homeboys actually do die, to get to the mystical woman of his dreams. Moreover, he’s really putting all his eggs in one basket with the idea that she will be flattered and marry him, rather than be skived out and run the other way. It was true dedication on Sir Stalker’s part and it worked out; so why would the guy in the line at the grocery store think any different?
Growing up, my mother told me to marry a man who loved me more than I love him and to always have one-upped him in several areas. When I look for the new love interests, I prefer to be the better looking, smarter, funnier, and more popular one of the pair. Obviously, I don’t usually win on being the more modest one, but I don’t mind if wins that round anyway. This tactic is completely functional since most men get “bored” and eventually their love dwindles. Instead of bringing flowers home and planning sporadic dates, they bring home a six pack and their bros to take over the TV to watch Sports Center, in complete disregard for the fact that there is a new episode of Glee on. It’s not that they don’t love you, it just gets comfortable. My theory is that if the prior description applies to the average couple, then a stalker will eventually dumb down to the level of flowers and dates, rather than excessive calls and binoculars through windows. I’d like to claim I came up with all of this on my own, but obviously Shakespeare and the people writing fairy tales considered this scheme long before I was even born.

Currently, I have no active stalkers. I have had some amazing ones in the past. (After I finish I will follow this up with a poem one guy wrote for me after we met one time. He was pretty much my hero after that incident.) Some women just have a natural talent for attracting these guys. They are the stalker magnets of the world. I wish I knew their secrets. I think they wish they knew them too so they could stop whatever they are doing that collects their whack pack of followers. Maybe they have a sixth sense or intense pheromones or they are hiding some fairy dust I just don’t know about. My roommate is one of these gifted women. I don’t think she fully appreciated the fortuity of her position until she met me to encourage these non-relationships. She even has one stalker who lives three times zones away that she met ONE time for about five minutes who still calls on their “anniversary” (the day they met three years ago)and every holiday (including flag day) and other specials days, like the ones that end in “day.” Her newest addition left a seven minute voicemail for her when he knew she was on a road trip with her boyfriend. Seven minutes! That’s longer than most men I know last in bed, much less in conversation. Mind you it was a voicemail, so it doesn’t qualify as a conversation. More of a monologue…

Anyway, after realizing that without even trying my roommate was able to nail down two men, lock and key, in a matter of minutes, I must be doing something wrong if I have no stalkers of my own. I needed to solve this problem ASAP. Since I look for jobs on Craig’s List, I’m sure stalkers look for stalkee’s there. Logically I put a post. Under the “Wanted” section I titled it “Stalker,” since that is what I want. The text read as follows:
I am in the market for a new stalker. Mine has decided to take a break to pursue other things.


Qualifications:


call at least 3 times a day and leave messages regardless of me never answering, text at least 10 times a day (preferably with pictures of flowers and/or other romantic inanimate objects), preferably over the age of 45 though not required, has Facebook, his hobbies must include me, me, and me and calling and texting me and me, disregards if I tell him I have a boyfriend/husband/am a lesbian/in a polygamist marriage/am the Octomom. Most importantly, doesn't give up. Ever.


If you fit the requirements please send a resume and references. Thanks!

I got a few responses, but no one worth interviewing, before my post was flagged and taken down. I can only assume it was flagged due to miscategorization. I’m headed back to the drawing board.

My roommate is against me telling stalkers where we live, but how else are they going to build a tree house out back to hang out in 24/7? Sometimes I think she is just unreasonable. I think I may be able to sway her eventually since I have gotten her to appreciate the men who flock to her without her even acknowledging their existence. In fact, she even called one today! It was 12:30AM his time and he happily picked up to chat. She hardly said anything and he just rolled with it all. She also is into the idea of going to a very special stalker’s DJ event on Wednesday (details to follow). My hope in opening her eyes to the benefits of stalkers that she will give me joint custody of one of hers, since I apparently don’t have whatever qualifications there are to attract such men and Craig’s List is not allowing me to take applications.

In conclusion, here is a poem that one of my stalkers from 2006 wrote to me in its original text, except my name has been changed

Mya Wanna Weary Wander

mya ana, mya ana
we just met but still i'm gonna
go ahead and holla-rama
all about your impact; stronger
than most i've met, full of force
life living a blessing, a gift, your eyes
reveal loss and yearning
love and learning
lest you wonder why we met
zest we plunder high we get
all asunder striving wet
pick a person; shower them
with nowness, with loudness of soul
The oldness of coal burns dinosaurs
walking before us, faster and stronger,
dumber and just as happy, their bones a
testament to the end. So send me your
flowered speech, your laugh and
howling screech, unsaid, says more than
words in beds. your lords are dead, but life
lies ahead. all green and red and
blue are you? Tis true i too
but stop not for lowdowns, plow forth
for showdowns are for the birds
as are sundowns for us, and ups
in the morning, the light shone through your window
surprisingly, as it will again and again
if when we're lost again in a night
to hold each other tight and test
the gummyness of breath, if when then?
then not now, for where are you now but not here?
mya ana mya ana
mya wanna weary wander?