I balk at virtually all types of social interaction with people I don't know. So it's very VERY rare for me to go out on my own to a bar. This usually requires just the right amount of alcohol- just enough for me to move beyond my anxiety but not enough to shut down my less-than-fine motor skills.
One of these rare instances occurred a few weeks ago.
Without going into too many details, I met someone. For the sake of this rant, let's call her "Alice" (why not? it's her name, after all). We started chatting after she complimented the shirt I was wearing (which should have been the first clue). She was very attractive, intelligent, nerdy/goofy funny, and was willing to talk with me. Regardless, it's been so long since I've had a girlfriend, my standards have sunk to: female, 21 and over, registers on an EEG. But, as I somewhat stated, she seemed quite a catch.
At the bar, Alice had a habit of talking a lot very quickly then stopping for a while. Kinda fidgety too. I figured she was nervous. But things went well, and we talked for a coupla hours and went out the next day.
A short time passed. Things were OK (just "OK"), but... off. Her nervous thing didn't go away. She stared- a lot. Twitches, odd phrases, random bursts of energy. Tons of eccentricities- some adorable, others setting off faint warning lights in my mind. And clingy. You know how annoying Patton is (for those of you who know who Patton is)? Think that- but clingy. Full of little oddities. But who am I to say anything? Let's face it- the odd ones are the only ones who can put up with me (sorry, but it's true (and trust me- I could go on and on about that (you've heard "the worst date ever" story, right?))).
Anyways, things weren't getting better and damn quick. We're talking
maybe only 2, 2 & 1/2 weeks in.
A few days ago, I'm at her apartment and need to use her restroom for the first time. As soon as I open the door, I see them. Pills. And you thought I had pills. There were vials of pills covering every available surface. Anti-anxiety, anti-depressants, anti-psychotics. ADD, bipolar, hyperactivity. Shit I've never heard of and can't pronounce. And, as I stared at them in the open door, I can't help but think "that explains it, huh?".
Which was loudly and angrily echoed by the female voice behind me. Which became more startling when I turned to see her twitching, staring, sweating (not the good kind), and holding a kitchen knife- all in the general direction of me. Placating words were spoken, rebuffed, and I managed to get the fuck outta there with all my skin still firmly attached and my pants dry.
Since, I've had my cell off for long periods of time, and when I turn it on- no messages but a lot of calls. Late at night, Fred will start growling at something outside (like as I'm writing this in fact (seriously). I checked, but don't see anything. I need floodlights. Could be a cat....). I've woken up in the middle of the night with the eerie feeling of being watched (but this could simply be general paranoia... or Fred when she steals the blankets). I half expect to wake up one night, Fred's missing, and Alice's staring at me from the bedroom door. Brrrrr.
Anyways, I'll be fine :) Short term, at least. Long term- well... I think I'll be single for a while longer. Maybe until 40?
2040.
And the moral of this rant is two-fold: people who are "quirky" are generally only a half-step away from "
f***ing crazy"
and
crazy is fun but it can follow you home.
