Thursday, March 5, 2009

Do you stalk him?

I bet you do.

During my junior year of high school, I, of course, had a crush. So did, of course, my best friend at the time. Both of our crushes lived fairly close to the school, as did I, and, most days, our post-school route went something like this:

1 - Drive around My Crush's block. Honk as we pass his house.
2 - Drive around Her Crush's block. Honk again.
3 - Snacks at my house.
4 - Drive Best Friend home.
5 - Drive to work.

If we were really on one (sometimes fueled by how little or how much these boys were paying attention to us at school/social activities), we'd repeat steps 1 and 2 two or three times. Also, I drove a particularly obnoxious and obvious car that looked and acted like no one else's. Between my car and the honking, subtle we were not.

I actually got to date My Crush for awhile. I don't think Her Crush took her out more than once or twice. We were all good friends that year, though I have no idea if they ever knew about our stalking route. I don't even know if they were ever home. Either way, by the summer, we'd both moved on and were dating different boys entirely.

I didn't get much better as I got older. One day, the summer my missionary came home (and we were still figuring out what was going on between us now), I deliberately took my dog for a walk about the time I knew my man would be driving home (we were from the same home ward). I also deliberately started running down his street, so that I would look more impressive.

It worked. He passed me.

I STILL haven't gotten much better. Just last fall, after meeting an entire apartment of cute boys from my ward that live about a mile or so away from me, I decided a loop from my house to theirs and back would be the perfect running route. I've run that route more than once, around the time most people are getting home for the day, because it worked the first time. Of course, I was exerting a little more than usual around the corners I knew they might be lurking.

Even now, I pick my times that I walk through the building at work (mostly so I can walk to our mail drop) around times I know that a certain guy here might see me strutting past and looking amazing. We've already decided we will never date, but I pretty much just want to rub it in his face. I know Trixie does the same thing, planning certain errands around the time a certain male might be in the area.

Not only do we do it in person, but now we can do it online. On any number of social networking sites, primarily Facebook these days, we can see exactly what the object of our affection (or disdain, sometimes) is up to. If a picture is posted, we wonder why that one girl is in it. We wonder if his status has anything to do with your most recent conversation. If he hasn't been on for awhile, has he just been busy or is actually avoiding it because he knows you are watching? And, of course, if we're feeling witty or brave enough, we'll write on their Wall or comment on a recent posting or status. Just to get him thinking about us and how clever we are, or how well we know him because he would just love that one article about that one thing.

I'm sure I could think of even more examples. The point is, we all do it. We know that the more a guy sees us, the more likely we are to stick in his mind, and eventually ask us out, fall in love with us, and live happily ever after. At least that's what we tell ourselves. We don't want to be overly aggressive, but accidentally on-purpose running intos are completely kosher. They certainly don't hurt, provided they aren't done overtly and all of the time.

Really, it's a compliment. We want to know what you're up to, so that we know more about you, and we most definitely want you to notice us.

So notice us, please?


Roxie said...

I just had to share the following exchange the boyfriend and I had about MySpace recently:

Me: I got on to stalk you basically. ;) I can do that much easier now with other ways.
Him: I got on hoping to provide you with an avenue to stalk me. Now that you are doing it in other ways, it all seems moot.