Booty Call
I met Alex in my German class when I was in my third year of university. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and he was hot, so we exchanged numbers (something I very rarely do) and MSN contacts, agreeing to be study buddies for what promised to be a difficult class. The next class, however, Alex didn’t show up. I figured he might have dropped the class so I thought nothing of it and assumed I wouldn’t hear from him.
A few days later, Alex added me on MSN and messaged me to tell me he had dropped the class but still wanted to hang out. We started talking online, getting to know one another and met up with each other on campus twice. He asked all sorts of questions about me, including which area of the city I lived in and what classes I was taking.
About two weeks after I had met him, he messaged me online at 4:00 a.m. while I was up late studying. “Let’s meet up,” he said, asking me out for a third time. I refused, not only because I was studying but because I was insulted that he was obviously trying to booty call me. At first, I joked around about him booty calling me but was very clear it wouldn’t be happening. “I’m not going to meet up with you, I know what you want,” I told him after he kept bothering me in a playful yet finite tone. What I considered to a nice way of letting him down, however, completely set him off. He began calling me a whore and a bitch, telling me he would stalk me because he knew where I lived and what classes I was in. That wasn’t his greatest overreaction though: He began sending me links to pictures of white tigers and cheetahs and asking if I liked his pretty cats because they would rip me alive.
Needless to say, I blocked him, changed my phone number and alerted my school about his odd behaviour. I never heard from him again. I never figured out if he was drunk or just crazy, but I do not regret speaking up for myself!
