Sunday, September 21, 2008


Note to self:
When you no longer drink like you did in your youth, and when you are eating lightly while you try to lose weight, don't head into your local pub, start chatting with a nice lady sitting next to you, and drink about a gazillion glasses of white wine.
Because this is what I did Friday night, meaning I spent yesterday with a wicked, wicked hangover. I honestly can't recall the last time I suffered so, but I don't plan on repeating that for a very long time.
The girls and I walked down and got my car today - thankfully, I had enough of my wits about me to realize it was wise to leave the car where it was, and walk home.
The reason I was in the pub on Friday night instead of my usual Saturday, was to avoid a guy I chatted with the previous Saturday. We talked for a bit, and he bought me a beer, and seemed ok, so I gave him my phone number, a move I now deeply regret. His contacts with me began normally, calling me and leaving a message on Sunday. That was the beginning of his daily phone calls. And not just once a day, by the time I got home from work on Wednesday, he'd called 4 times, each about 30 minutes apart, and each message getting worse. When I didn't call him back, he called me at 7:30 am on Thursday morning. I spoke to him about 8:30, and asked him to please not leave me multiple phone messages and not to call that early.
I could tell my pleas were falling on deaf ears. When I got home Thursday night, he'd left a couple more messages, the second one complaining that I hadn't returned the phone message he'd left me at 12 noon, even though he knew I was at work, and we'd spoken 3 1/2 hours earlier. He called again Friday night, and then again Saturday afternoon from the pub, whining that I wasn't there to meet him - this although I'd told him I'd be working Saturday. He said in the message that he thought the problem was that I just don't know him well enough, and to feel free to ask him anything about himself that I might want to know.
My only question is - dude, how can you be so freakin' clueless?
Anywhoo, I'm working today and watching the Ryder Cup and football, and hope to do better with my picks this week, even though I was unable to rent a chimp to make my picks for me.
Update - another phone call from Mr. Clueless
MC - Diiiaaaannneeee. I missed you yesterday.
Me - I told you I was working Saturday.
MC - I don't remember you telling me this.
Me - I'm really not interested in pursuing this, and I'm asking you to stop calling me.
MC - Well, you don't have to be so nasty about it.
Me - Well being nice about it hasn't worked, so I'm asking you to stop calling me.
MC - click.

7 Comments:

Blogger LA said...

OMG, you nipped a total psycho in the bud. He doesn't know where you live, does he?

12:10 PM  
Blogger Diane said...

la - thank goodness, no. And he only has my home phone - I declined his request last week for other numbers where it would be easier for him to reach me.

12:23 PM  
Blogger Auburn Kat said...

Wow!!! That guy was CLUELESS!!!

5:11 PM  
Blogger sage said...

Let's see, it was about a year ago you told us about your other date--

I don't miss hangovers, but hang-oners sound worst!

6:13 PM  
Blogger Diane said...

sage - that one was a set up - this one I found on my own1

6:27 PM  
Blogger Karen said...

Sounds like a phone stalker, ick!

7:37 PM  
Blogger Tiffany Norris said...

Ooh, sorry you have a stalker! Sometimes you do have to be firm. Hope it worked.

10:19 AM  

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