Yep. Here I am. The Stalker.
I saw a news article today that was talking about someone getting a restraining order on someone who was stalking them. I didn’t read the story, just the headline. Skimming past it to the next article I thought to myself, “Stalkers must be the creepiest people. Who does that?”. Then I realized, that I am a total stalker. Yes, me. Sweet, girl-next-door (okay, I have NEVER been described as the girl next door, but it makes me sound likable) me. Three specific instances came to mind:
1. When I was in Rome my friend Connie & I wanted to go to the Vatican. However, we got lost and had no clue how to get there. “Scuzi…uh, umm…donde esta el Pope?” As luck would have it we spied a few ladies that looked like they may know the way. They were dressed in black with somber faces. It was indeed a group of nuns. Perhaps if we discreetly followed them they would lead us to the Vatican. Low and behold after many narrow streets and confusing intersections we found ourselves at St. Peter’s Basilica.
Lesson: When looking for holy places follow a nun. They know the way.
2. The summer after my senior year in high school I was in England. My friend Kelly & I had read too many Jane Austin novels & when we saw this cute guy we totally stalked him. We referred to him as Ashton and followed him all throughout downtown Norwich. He had blonde dreadlocks, wore a backpack and road this cool vintage bike. In our minds this guy was studying literature at the university while actively involved in political issues and read poetry under a tree by the river. He was probably not that interesting in real life, but we never found out. Despite our ‘appearing’ in the same location as him multiple times he never came over to say hi. I suppose we weren’t as mysterious and attractive to him as he was to us.
Lesson: When looking for romance, don’t follow the guy on the bike.
3. My friend Erika & I were driving to Crawford Texas to scope out George W. Bush’s ranch. After herding a loose flock of goats off the roadway & talking to the secret service agents we decided to return home. We were not going to see the President that day. All of a sudden a caravan of black suburbans drove past. Erika & I made a U-Turn and sped to catch up with them. I kid you not that we both put on over-sized dark sunglasses. She drove and I sat poised with her big black camera in hand just snapping away. We followed them for several miles until they pulled into a grocery store. Turns out it was Condoleeza Rice and her husband. We casually parked several rows away so as not to tip off the secret service . Good thing they couldn’t see us behind our big glasses. After being stared down by two guards we decided we should probably go. I guess they had notice we had been tailing them for miles.
Lesson: When stalking government officials have your friend drive. That way they have her license plate on file and not yours…
I clearly have a habit of tracking people down when I am on trips with friends…Which supports my suspicions that I should have been a spy. Really, I should have been. Except I don’t handle stress well. And I get lost in airports. And I don’t know how I feel about concealed weapons…okay, maybe not a spy. Maybe a girl scout.