stereotypical single woman

And NOT in a good way.

Earlier this week I was at work, sitting at the desk in the tech center, when my library stalker comes up to me. On the surface he seems harmless enough but something about him just gives me the creeps. He’s a very large, older man with coke bottle glasses, questionable hygiene, and long greasy hair - you know, pretty much your stereotypical stalker look. As far as I can tell he doesn’t work. He occasionally picks fights with other patrons. He also talks to other patrons about me. Invades my personal space. Remembers my cats’ names, even though I’ve never told him them. Happens to show up at the library just about the time I start my shift and stays for the duration. And just generally makes me feel very uncomfortable. My coworkers jokingly refer to him as my “friend.”

I try to avoid him whenever I can, and when he does manage to corner me my male coworkers are really great about stepping in and rescuing me. But unfortunately this time they were helping other people when he came up to the desk and wanted to chat.

“Sara, I just wanted to ask. Do you live in Ferndale?”

I smile and say “Sorry, but I don’t.” and pointedly look at the patron waiting in line behind him, hoping this is the end of this little information gathering session.

Undaunted he says “Oh, because I was looking for a new place to live, and one of the ads on Craigslist was a Sarah in Ferndale advertising for a roommate. She said she had cats and I was hoping it was you.”

“Nope, not me.” I clearly make eye contact with the patron waiting to print something, but he stays put.

“Shucks, I was hoping it was.” He leans in closer “Do you want a roommate?”

A blank stare of horror crosses my face - adrenaline starts pumping, fear grips my brain, sending the clear message “think fast, come up with a good reason to get rid of him. Lie woman, LIE, and make it convincing!” So I stammer “Sorry, but I don’t think my boyfriend wants us to get one.”

He’s interested now “Oh really, who is he?”

“A really great guy.” Lame, I know, but even with premeditation I’m not a good liar. At this point I was freaking out too much to even come up with a name for my fictitious boyfriend, let alone a life story. Lord know what he’d do if I gave him any information. Thankfully though my lie sounded convincing enough that he left it at that and said goodnight.

Can you blame me for starting to look for another job?????