Saturday, October 30, 2010

I Had A Stalker. Her Name Is Nicole

Shared for all of you to know May 28, 2009
My Dad, the shape-shifter, promised my Mom that he would set up a foundation in her name after she died.  I was glad to help with this project and did most of the form filing and grunt work for it.  Although we had hopes this would become a large fund to help disadvantaged women it remained a fairly modest program.  Once we accumulated enough funds to make a decent donation to women who could use some help in their education or career advancement we began advertising in small periodicals for applicants.

Applying the concepts of prayer, repentance and charity in our daily lives is extremely important.  Merely talking or typing about it only goes so far.  You have to do it; you have to live it for it to be really meaningful.  My Dad and I often spoke about ways we could raise more funds and reach a larger audience but keeping in mind the costs associated with fund raising is important.  As much as we wanted this to grow into something larger we never really envisioned it to be the primary focus of our lives.  There are so many worthy charities out there competing for donations we were realistic about how difficult it would be to grow into something very large.  Helping women who needed some financial assistance was what was important no matter how small the donation seemed to us.

The second year we ran this charity we donated to a woman I thought was outstanding.  Her application seemed exactly suited for our yearly donation.  The women we chose had to be interviewed by my Dad, my sister, and me simultaneously.  If she could put up with that and survive then she would get the money.  I found this woman exceptionally attractive.  Women from my Mom's homeland have a special place in my heart.  She was also working in a field that was related to work I did.  After we concluded the interview I knew I wanted to spend some time alone with her.  After letting some time pass after the interview I asked her out on a date and was glad she accepted my invitation. 

I remember picking her up and one of her neighbors giving me the third degree.  Why what she did was his business was a bit unclear to me but for some reason this guy felt it necessary to protect her.  She finally made her way to my Jeep and we drove to the restaurant at the Grove.  There was a bit of that first date nervous tension which I broke with a joke about falafel.  Her laugh made me feel good and I got the feeling this date was going in the right direction.  I parked it in the Grove's parking lot.

When we got to the street level there was a crowd of about 30 people moving slowly like a death march.  My date, who does not really like crowds, cut through this obstruction quickly.  Her small stature and agile body sliced through it expertly.  I had to avoid people within this group with more difficulty as I struggled to keep up with her.  Halfway through this group of people I hear a "scuff scuff" of suede.  I look to my left.  There was Nicole with Talan's arm around her.  He looks at me and she looks away.  Apparently in her mind, if we do not make eye contact then it's like she's not really there.  It's a public place so I suppose this group of people are allowed there.  I just wish they wouldn't show up when I want to go on a first date with someone.

We get our seats at the restaurant and the diner seems to be going really well.  I am a flirt and given a chance I can make good headway in a short period of time.  At some point I realize she is getting uncomfortable.  I sense there is something going on to my right and I look over.

Nicole!

She's staring at us.  Her long, black, curly hair is framed by her infamous big glasses and hoodie combo.  I still know it's Nicole.  She is transfixed in a stare.  I gesture with my head, "Scram.  Get out of here."  Eventually she gets the message, crosses her arms and sulks off.  My date seems temporarily relieved but I can tell that she is disturbed that I have a stalker that I did not tell her about.  A short period of time after we concluded that date, I ask her out again, and without either of us making reference to the strange girl (who is a shape-shifter) that watched us she refused to go out with me again.

The Curse of Nicole had struck again.

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