This one is from the archives, but I’m dusting it off for today. Because today I have to actually dust my house to get ready for our adoption homestudy visit. Enjoy!
I saw a news article today that was talking about someone getting a restraining order on someone who was staking 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 I am a total stalker. Yes, me. Sweet girl-next-door me. ( okay, I have NEVER been described as the girl next door, but it makes me sound more likeable.) 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. We predicted that 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 and I had read too many Jane Austen novels in our senior English classes. One day we saw this cute guy and we totally stalked him around town. We referred to him as Ashton because in our minds he was studying literature at the university while actively involved in political issues and read poetry under a tree by the river. He had blonde dreadlocks, wore a backpack and rode this really cool bike. It just seemed he should have a cool name like Ashton.
He was probably not that interesting in real life, but we never got a chance to find out. Despite our magically appearing at the same locations as him all over town that day, Ashton 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 and I were driving to Crawford, TX to scope out George W. Bush’s ranch while he was still President. Both of us were studying politics at Baylor University and his ranch was just about 30 minutes away. Naturally we decided to try and meet him. After hearding a loose flock of goats off the roadway and talking to the secret service agents we decided to return home. Despite all our best efforts we weren’t 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 hit the gas to catch up to them. I kid you not that we both put on over-sized dark sunglasses. Is there any other accessory to wear when stalking the President?
Erika 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 the grocery store. Turns out it was Condoleeza Rice and her husband.
We actually 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 very muscular guards we decided we should probably go. I guess they did notice that we had been tailing them for miles. Lesson: When stalking government officials have your friends 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 theory that I should have been a spy.
No, really. I should have been a spy. Except I don’t handle stress well. And I get lost in airports. And I don’t know exactly how I feel about concealed weapons…okay, maybe not a spy. Maybe a girl scout.
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