Americans,
your President.


claude le monde
UDvCLM
...
archives + shop le monde
guestbook
diaryland
email the claw
...
the last five entries:

i killed it Gilbert

the taco mystique

no networks, no nukes, not notcakes

my vacation in numbers

cycloparappin: CnH4n


how we do:
loupe online
universal donor
tape + solitaire
dr j.j.
tuckova
drunkenbee
my ninjas
dinosaur comics !
the 2ndhand
12% beer


+ you are #




10:04 am | 07 April 2003 | stalk of the town

Preface: I have bronchitis and am somewhat incoherent. Please keep this in mind when reading my entry, as i am realizing that it is somewhat nonlinear, rambling, and poorly constructed. Thank you.

I think now is a good time to tell you all my stalker story. Solitaire, this goes out to you.

When i was 16 i worked at the North Kent movies (a United Artists Cinema, we always had to append to that). It was a $1.99 second-run piece-o'-crap movie theatre clinging to the edge of the parking lot of dying North Kent Mall: at that time it contained only a Claire's boutique (where i would go on my lunch breaks to stock up on black rubber bracelets--remember, i was goth), an Orange Julius, and a K-Mart. The movie theatre was run by this chump i'll call Steve Bodnar, because that was his name. He was totally gross. He was this albino-looking, tobacco-chewing, lady-groping freaktard of a manager.

Anyway, i am getting off track. There are more great North Kent stories i will share later--like how it was haunted, and also how i stole three garbage bags of popcorn for prank use once. No, instead I am going to stick to the stalker thing.

I worked with this creepy fucker named John West who was the son of a local Baptist preacher and was also way goth, too--but like one of those creepy, Aleister-Crowley, cape-wearin', fang-havin' goths. (I was more of a cutesy Cure goth, if that makes any sense.) Anyhow, the teen-witches-in-L.A. movie The Craft came out while i was working at the movie theatre and John decided that i looked just like Nancy, the Fairuza Balk character (which, yeah, i do) and, as such, clearly i was meant to be, like, his infernal vampire bride or whatever.

Now, we hadn't really been friends, ever. We talked about Sisters of Mercy once in a while, and sometimes we had to change the letters on the big marquee out by the road together (after which, eschewing the ladder, he would leap some twenty feet to the ground, ostensibly to make his cape flutter majestically or something), but that was about the extent of our professional contact. As his obsession increased he got worse, skulking around the ticket box (I was the ticket girl), creeping around my car, leaving notes written in fake blood in my locker, trying to hang with me and Jessie on our breaks. (He had a freaky goatee and long fingernails, and was fraught with skull jewelry, too--i wanted to add this to complete the "picture of terror" i am painting for you). I was plenty weirded out but i kind of blew it off. I mean, i did plenty of borderline-stalky things myself, as a maladjusted teen (driving past your crush's house 30 times in a week, anyone?), so i just kind of ignored him.

Then one day i was riding home from school in Tara's car (she was a 'popular' girl who for some reason had decided to adopt me as some sort of pet alternateen, or something). Maria was there, too, and we were listening to Tori all loud and i was smoking a Marlboro Light in the backseat (ooh! rebel!) and i remember feeling happy.

We pulled onto my little dead-end street in the middle of the woods...and were accosted by a news crew from Channel 8. "Do you know about the bomb?" they said, shoving their cameras and microphones into the backseat (i was trying to hide the cigarette from my mom in the event this was actually on the news). "Huh...what?" i stammered, looking up the road to see the BOMB SQUAD van parked in front of my house.

Apparently, whoever planted the bomb was kind of a retard, because a.) there was fresh snow, so a buttload of big spiky combat-style footprints were discovered, and b.) the bomb was planted ON THE HOUSE. It was a pipe bomb, big enough to do some damage, but the cops pried it off without too much trouble.

I guess they interrogated him but got nothing out of it. I filed a report and i got a pager to contact a detective if anything else happened, but that was the end. Well, once i was driving home from Denny's at like 1am and someone tailed me, but i turned off my lights and drove like a maniac and eluded him. Because i was a teenager, and 'eluding' people by speeding down back roads in pitch blackness, rather than calling for help, seemed like a good idea.

Anyway. I hope you have enjoyed my stalker story. I have to go cough up a lung now. love. clm.

Also: wait, what?


prev... (home) ...next

unless otherwise noted, all work contained herein is � claudia sherman, 2002-04.
all rights, including those of reproduction, reserved.