Stalkr Much?

Should I feel terrible about this?  I feel like I’m being creepy.

But the internet is public domain, right?  If someone is posting info in public, it’s so people will look at it, correct?  And moreover, these days the curious don’t have to work that hard to answer their questions.  All you need is simply a real name or a more popular alias to chase.  (Having to spend entire days on the internet helps, probably.)

This is a long post about Sunday, (even though there are more exciting things going on here… like an earthquake that broke nothing), and to protect the innocent, I won’t be using her real name.

“Her” – the lovely Apple Store employee who made my phone purchasing experience quick, painless, and actually somewhat pleasant despite my lack of sleep the previous night.

And this post is about my complete failure to present myself as a suitor.  One can learn something from watching others’ (or my) mistakes!  Take, for instance, the fact that you should never make a bet with friends and coworkers that you will inevitably and consistently lose.

Still here?  Okay.

I guess I owe the beginning of this to my friend / coworker from the bar who went with me to get a phone at the mall.  He came for moral support as malls FREAK THE CRAP OUT OF ME.  I was never a mallrat in high school, nor do I find the experience aesthetically fulfilling in any way.  I zero in on something I need to get, purchase it, and then GET THE FLOCK OUT OF THERE.  It’s a culture I’ve always been uncomfortable with.

I try not to hang out with him that often because this friend of mine (we call him “The Intern” because he’s the youngest employee at the bar) is very forward with the ladies.  If we’re having a conversation, and someone with a vagina is standing nearby, he will turn his back on the conversation, start to puff up*, and force a conversation onto them.

Oh before I forget:

*Puff Up (verb) – to change your tone to portray an air of confidence, and to make extensive use of shameless flattering.

In many respects he’s kind of a douche when he does this, but at his core his heart is in the right place (we think?) and he’s only having fun, so it’s by and large a harmless habit.

But he kept pushing this line about being my “lawyer” and it got a laugh from some girls were also in line for a phone – albeit they only laughed once and awkwardly – this was enough for him to figure he should turn it into a running gag. Think of it this way:  He’s the kind of guy that makes nicknames up for himself instead of letting them be made for him.  Or alternatively: The worst wingman ever.

The residual effect of his uncontrolled affinity for ladies was that when I was guided in to get an iPhone**, he cut in right in front of me to talk to the cute Apple employee.  I actually didn’t feel slighted as this particular employee came off as non-receptive to douchebaggary, but would humor it with polite patience.

When I finally got to talking to her, the conversation went something like this:

(while I’m in line)
She: This card will make a reservation for your iPhone, it will make it so that you can get out of line and come back later if you want.
Nico: Cool.  Hey, I have a question: Is it easier for you guys to migrate phone numbers or start fresh with nothing?
She: Making a new phone number is much easier.  But we have no problem migrating an old phone number, it’s kind of what we expect.
Nico: Alright.  (Looking down at the card in my hand, I notice we are both wearing red Chuck Taylors) Nice shoes.
She: (smiles)
Intern: Can I have a copy of the Terms and Conditions?  Because I’m his lawyer.
Nico: (slaps forehead)

(finally out of line, and in the store)
She: He’s not really your lawyer, is he?
Nico: No.  He’s just a co-worker friend of mine from this bar I work at.
She: Oh, what bar?
Nico: It’s in Little Tokyo.  It’s called 2nd St. Jazz.
She: Oh, cool.
Nico: Yeah, it’s alright.  Long hours, though.

[fiddling with a customer service device]

She: So you wanted a new number, right?  You don’t want to use your old one?
Nico: Yeah.  Let’s start from scratch.
She: Get rid of those stalkers, right?
Nico: Eh, the only people that stalk me are bands asking to play a show.
She: [chuckles] Oh yeah?
Nico: Yeah. You’d be surprised.

[more fiddling and run-of-the-mill customer service]

She: Do you want me to write your number down on a piece of paper so you can remember it?
Nico: Yeah, that’d be really helpful.
She: (writes my number on the back of her business card) Here you go.  I’m also going to email your receipt just in case, and you’re ready to go.  Aaand, congratulations!
Nico: …wh- that’s it?  I thought this was going to take a lot longer and that you guys were, you know, sick of this crap.
She: (puzzled look)
Nico: You know with all the iPhone lines and such. Like, I’m just making your day that much longer.
She: Oh, no!  No, it’s fine, really it’s not a problem at all.
Nico: Good attitude.  Good luck with the rest of the iLine.
She: (smiles) Thanks.  Enjoy your phone!

[I salute her and make my way out with Intern]

Intern: Did you get her phone number?
Nico: What?  No, I don’t like making employees feel awkward.  I mean, she’s working.  That’s crass.
Intern: You could have totally gotten her phone number.
Nico: Well, I got her card. (I take a look at her card) Her name is Sunshine***.  That’s so f’n adorable!
Intern: You could have totally picked up on her.  You guys were getting along.
Nico: No.
Intern: (shoots me a look)
Nico: No!  I don’t think that’s what it was at all.  Damn, you’re so presumptuous!
Intern: Did you like her?
Nico: Well yeah, she was cute and had a good vocabulary and all but I just don’t ask girls out.  I feel like it puts them in an awkward position.  I feel like it’s better to just quit while I’m ahead.
Intern: You owe me a beer.
Nico: Why?
Intern: Because you owe me a beer every time got an opportunity to hit on a girl you think is cute and you don’t take it.
Nico: I … FUCK.  SHIT.  Ok, I owe you a beer.
Intern: YEEEAAAH!
Nico: I’m never hanging out with you outside of work again.

Not long afterwards, and like any curious netizen, I Googled her with my newly acquired device and found out some things about her that convince me: if anything had materialized, that I would have probably been in love with this girl had I been given the chance to hang out with her.  Of course, love takes two people, and I’m betting that if I started to feel that way, it wouldn’t be reciprocated.  I’m just kind of un-datable.  Oh, people have tried.  And I’ve tried to make it work.  I just can’t do it.  Not into it.

Meh.

On a positive note, I bet I can write a song out of it… but that would probably exacerbate the creepiness.  Especially if she found this post.  Oh god, what would happen if she found this post?  I think I just soiled myself a little.

Ultimately, I’m not really upset about missing the chance to have been in someone’s life, even if I find that person to be particularly enchanting.  I naturally stray from putting myself in those kinds of circumstances so that doesn’t phase me one bit.  What’s really upsetting is the fact that I owe The Intern a beer.  He’s rarely ever right, and as such, I shall never hear the end of this.

Dammit. Fecking bar bets.

—————

**Which, as it turns out, has completely re-organized all the disorganized parts of my life in a matter of days.  I know I decried this thing earlier but now that I have it, a lot of my life suddenly makes sense now that I’m directly connected to it.  Who knew?

***Her real name is actually very cute.