re: Any good personal stalker stories?

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He was either chatting it up or had already hit it...

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yep, doesn't add up, if his story is this lame on here, he's probably waiting at the door with roses and a rose petal path to a bubble bath for his wife so he can loufa her stretch marks while he's confessing

I have a really good one, but it's really embarrassing. Almost scarring, really.

Go on.....

484 posts means you should know better than this

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she introduced herself to me...if i dont workout at around 5-6pm every day she asks where ive been via text(i now workout around noon). She is a recent U of TN grad, hot as shite. If i am over in the stretch/ab area she will purposely come over there w a yoga ball and start doing leg kickbacks

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VFL
V,B

*Sigh* Okay.

This was years ago when I worked at a bank during college. This guy would walk in (white, mid-50's/60's) and bring his stuff to me. I would process the transaction and tell him to have a good day.

Well, then he started coming to me more often and kept telling me I was a "gentleman and a scholar". I didn't think much of it. Just shrugged it off.

Then, one day, on a really busy Friday (the lobby was packed) he came up to my window and I processed his stuff. Then, out of nowhere, he said, "Well, it's time for lunch. Where are we going? I was thinking of a place a little more intimate." I was completely floored, freaking speechless. Holy shite, the looks people gave me in that lobby. I thought I would never live it down. I told him I'm sorry but that I wasn't interested. He walked out. I thought that was the end of it.

But it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

He kept coming in. It would be cold outside and he would come in bicycle shorts and tank tops. He would suck on lollipops and scream my name in the lobby. My manager would ask him to leave, would make sure I went on break the moment he walked in, but he wouldn't stop.

Then, I started receiving letters at the bank from him. They were written on burnt parchment, in red ink, with crosses drawn all over the edges. Each time, each letter, there would be a recording of him singing and playing a church organ. It got so bad that the bank terminated his accounts after he called my managers at home threatening to hurt them for not "letting us be together". He would actually bring a radio to a payphone, call and threaten my managers, playing his recordings in the background. This is how the police found him.

Needless to say, the cops and bank security NEVER let me live it down.

The guy, of course, was sick. His mother died and she was the only one who made sure he took his medicine. Just a sad situation all around. I'm just glad I left that job alive. I really thought he was going to wear my skin.

.....sure

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haveagreatday

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where are the goddamn pics?