Anyway. Seeing as it is that time of the month again, I decided to stalk my stalker back.
I had three ideas:
1. I wake up really early and sneak up to the car. I lie down on the back seat under a blanket. I hold my breath and wait for the stalker to life the windshield wiper. Once he has put the note there (I did want to read what he had to say this time), I call the fiancé, and he nabs the stalker from behind, beats him to a pulp and hands him over to the police.
2. I wake up really early and change into the fiancé’s clothes. Basically an oversized shirt (that hides any evidence of my possessing a pair of boobs), a pair of baggy jeans and sneakers (so I can be quiet as a mouse). Pick up yesterday’s newspaper and cut out two circles so I can see, and park my ass on a bench in the parking lot. Oh, and I would also need to wear a cap and a pair of glasses and smoke a cigarette, just to stay in character.
3. I wake up really early, wear a yellow dress and lean against my car, as a “come on” for the stalker. If he’s good looking, I let him go with a warning and a promise that he will ghost-write my dreamy love letters to the fiancé. If he seems creepy, the fiance beats him to a pulp and hands him over to the police.
The fiancé had the following ideas:
4. We find a comfortable spot that is at a safe distance, wait for the guy to drop the note, click a few pictures and follow him OR call the cops in advance and have them follow the creep.
5. He puts me under house arrest and deals with the situation on his own.
6. We do nothing.
Needless to say, after half an hour of bickering about which of us was being the most helpful and coming up with the most innovative solutions, we decided (totally my choice!) to go with #4.
Our next step was to figure out the perfect spot for surveillance. At first we thought we’d go up to the rooftop of the building, but from there everythingone looked really tiny even with a pair of binoculars I purchased from Palika Bazaar, and we had to take it down a notch. Like, literally. We came back downstairs to our balcony and discovered it was perfect for the job. It is a covered area with smoked glass and plants hanging outside.
You get the general idea, don’t you? Anyway. After two hours of “Shhhh! You’ll scare him!” and “Lay low. If he sees you he’ll run away!” and other similar-sounding exclamations, I finally fall asleep.
Next thing I know, it’s 7 am and he’s poking me in the ribs.
Wake up! I see someone.
I look down and there he is. He is looking over his shoulder as he walks. I’m desperate to see his face by now. And then I see it. It’s the fat uncle-ji I run into every day when I leave for work! My disappointment must be obvious coz by now the fiance is staring at me in disbelief.
You really wanted it to that good-looking guy in the next building, didn’t you?
Shhhh. He’ll hear you! I start making a video of him on full zoom as he walks toward my car. It’s badly lit so I am fairly certain it’s not going to be good enough to be used as evidence, but it ought to be enough to scare him.
Why isn’t he stopping at my car?
The fiance, btw, is still pretty pissed at me. Maybe because he wants to make sure nobody’s watching him.
Where’s the note?
By now he’s very irritated. I don’t know. Just be quiet and watch.
The stalker puts his hand inside a pocket and pulls out his phone, and seems to be making a call. We’re both very confused at this point.
Soon enough, a familiar-looking aunty-ji who I’m pretty sure is married to someone else emerges from the building across the street, peering over her shoulder. Her pace quickens as she sees this guy; I think she’s almost going to run into his arms, but she doesn’t.
So he isn’t my stalker. Ha!
You sound relieved. And happy. Why do you sound happy?
Beautiful morning. Let me make you breakfast.
There’s more to this story.
As you may already know by now, I started receiving notes from a stalker in January 2014. I was thrilled at first, this being my first stalker and all, but people drilled some sense into me, and I started taking things a little more seriously. I kept watch for a few days, and nothing happened. This really upset me.
Anyway, I received a second note in February 2014, which brought me some guilty pleasure (and a lot of unsolicited advice from the fiance, which I didn’t talk about then because he used to read my blog). Then Aussa pointed out that my stalker was a creature of habit and there was a rhythm to his creepiness. His notes were timed, exactly a month apart. That brings us to this disastrous attempt at a stakeout.
There! That’s all there is to it!