27 August 2011

Another real life story!

This is the story of the Poem Guy.

Last summer, I was working a job in the city that was extremely intense. We didn't have weekends off and often worked 8am-midnight multiple days in a row. As a result, I spent large amounts of time that summer looking exceptionally crappy.

I think I've already pointed out that I have a tendency to attract seriously weird people. Apparently this tendency actually increases when I look like crap, which I might back up with circumstantial evidence later.

One late morning, as I'm attempting to either wake myself from lack of sleep or get over a hangover (we also did a fair amount of drinking that summer), I went to the Dunkin' Donuts on the corner and walked out some short amount of time later with a bag or drink or whatever it was I'd purchased. As I was walking back to work, I got stopped.

Guy: Hey! Hey, hold up!
Me: Um, yes?
Guy: I'm sorry, I just have to tell you that you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
Me: .......
Guy: I just couldn't let you just walk away without saying anything, you're just, you're so beautiful, you got those eyes, girl, and that skin, and, and, I see you got your Dunkin' Donuts there, and I'd just, I'd like to be the one buyin' you that next time, you know?
Me: ......

He went on to mumble a lot more about wanting to take me out on a date, and how he was a writer, and he was going to write me a poem. I spent most of the time he was talking thinking about how crappy I looked that day and how bizarre this whole encounter was. He asked for my phone number, but I wouldn't give it to him, so he asked for my email address so he could send me the poem he was going to write for me.

I'm a curious person. And I knew I could have a good laugh at all of this later. So, obviously, I gave him my email address. I went back to work and laughed about it with my coworkers. The next day, this atrocity of a poem showed up in my inbox:

Maidens Green

eyes a maidens green

Mysterious emeralds

Sparkling........... speaking softly a story of pain
greens have seen water many times
accounts the night and number of cries
happen to the child of light
                                                            I saw her
behind door................
door Karen keeps closed.......was partially open

There........behind.....was a little girl smiling at me

I have not edited this at all. This is exactly how this showed up in my email. I would like to clarify that I do not have green eyes, and I do not cry at night (nor do I "account" such things). Also, when my bangs are tied back, as they were when poem guy met me, I look like I'm twelve years old. F'real, y'all. So I find the little girl comment a bit creepy.

The story pretty much ends there, as I never responded to the email or any of the subsequent ones ("Did you like your poem?"). A few months later, I received a phone call from Poem Guy. I still have no idea how he managed to get my phone number. I tried to stalk myself given my first name and email address to no avail. But after letting him down rather nicely, in comparison, he never bothered me again.

EDIT: It seems I have let my real first name slip. Oh no! Please don't hunt me down and murder me, if you're one of those five people that read this and don't actually know me.

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