An Unsuccessful Stalker

My Very Worst Date was…well, I wasn’t even dating this guy. I met him in college; he was one of my classmates. I am pretty outgoing so I made friends with this international student from Columbia named Martin. He was tall, skinny, and very quiet – at first I thought he was just shy, but there was something about him that was hard to trust. I hung out with him a couple of times, but nothing that even remotely close to a date. One time he completely scared one of my girlfriends: she told him she has a boyfriend but he kept on coming on to her. I hang out with his roommate because the guy is from the same country as I am, but even his roommate doesn’t like him very much – he thinks he is cheap in paying rent and utilities, and that he is just a loner and odd ball.
After Martin made a couple of crude jokes at me and started calling me nonstop, I realized he was just plain too weird and also had feelings for me, so I reduced our contact and started hanging out more with my other friends. However, the numbers of phone calls, chats, and messages escalated – so much that it got annoying. So I just started ignoring them. Then he started tagging me in pictures that he obtained from some of my old Facebook photo albums. I untagged them because they were already in my own photo albums, but really thought nothing more of it.
I think I had not seen him for around two semesters, and all of a sudden I got a long message from him on Facebook. Basically he was calling me a b*tch for ignoring him on the street, and telling me that I have scored 1 for beauty and 0 for personality for him. Um, what? I was very confused. Then he got emotional, asking (and crying) why I ignored him, then bid me goodbye. At that time I was sick and was spending my whole week at home watching movies. The day he said he saw me, I was waiting for a UPS package the whole day: you know, the kind of delivery where you can go to the restroom for just five minutes and they’ll leave you a note saying you missed the delivery. So I couldn’t have seen Martin that day.
It turned out that he was walking on the street and said hi to some random Asian chick he thought was me, and that girl of course ignored him. Can you imagine not seeing someone for that long and their first message was calling you a b*tch? Not only that, this doofus doesn’t remember what I looked like – on top of that, he also sent me a long ass crazy email crying, blasting, and insulting me. I told him I was at home the whole week. He was embarrassed and sent me another long ass email, apologizing yet still trying to put the blame on me. He brought up how I untagged myself from his Facebook photos and therefore offended him. He admitted he wanted to be more than friends, but then called me a b*tch again for ignoring him.
I did not take his crap and I told him to go suck…you get what i mean. He sent me some other emails; I saw how big they were and his name and I didn’t even open them – they went straight to the trash bin.
Fast forward two years later: through some weird coincidences, Martin ended up being a roommate of my boyfriend’s close friends. I caught wind of Martin rehashing his version of the incident and bitching about me to my boyfriend’s close friend, who told my boyfriend. In Martin’s version of the story, I ignored him on the street, he was 90% sure of that. Then I insulted him and he chewed me back out. As if retelling the lies to as many people as possible will make it became fact. I showed his messages to my boyfriend, just because I don’t him to have an argument with his friends. He laughed at the insanity of it all – he said he found this guy really sad and that it’s pitiful that after two years he still cannot let go and is still trying to vilify me, not wanting to admit his own mistake. I wholeheartedly agree.


