Wednesday, January 20, 2010

My New Hobby

A couple weeks ago, during a snowstorm, when the bus was an hour late and the patronage attending said bus were multiplying to the point of creating close quarters on our little street corner, said patrons finally saw their compatriots were not in fact all socially outcast, extremely contagious lepers but really rather normal looking, and overwhelmed with the desire to protest the lateness of their transportation, deigned to speak to one another. (Me included.)

My bitching partner was a nice gentleman a generation or so older than I.

I promise you I have never once set eyes on this man in my life before. Not even on the bus.

His name is Bob. He apparently lives in my neighborhood, where he has lived for twenty-five years this March. Last year they added insulation to the attic and this year they’re having their siding re-done; it’s still the original siding from when the house was built in 1968. I could even point the house out to you if you’d like.
He has three grown children, all three of whom went to BYU – which only cost $6000/year, room and board!! – two of whom still live in Utah, the youngest of whom just turned 30, and eight grandchildren. They are members of LDS but they only got a 500 or so dollar discount off tuition for being members.
He works in IT at the University and his wife just recently retired. She was a nurse. He has a Bachelors in Zoology and a PhD in psychology but not the clinical side (though I can’t tell you what other side there is) and somehow his job morphed over the years into basically being IT.
He and his wife lived in Boston for a few years after grad school, then Montana (where he worked for the government and got paid crap but still thought it was beautiful), then Phoenix and finally here.*

I can’t tell you that much information about half of my friends. One of my friends just had a baby and I didn’t even know she’d moved to San Francisco until I got the pictures of them in front of their house.

But I swear I got all that information directly from him. Really. No stalking involved. Really.

Except now everywhere I go, there he is. Or rather, there he already was. Perhaps - everywhere he is, here I come!

I have seen him LITERALLY every day on the bus. I miss my bus by thirty seconds and there he is, already at the stop. I catch the early bus, he’s there waiting before me. I make a detour to the convenience store and get on the bus a few stops away, and he’s sitting front and center.

I grab a cup of coffee on the way in to work (which I never do) – and who’s in line two people in front of me? Why, Bob of course!

We grab the sled and head to the park, and who do we see cross country skiing back home? None other than Bob!

I take the Energizer Bunny and the Engine of Chaos and Destruction out for a pleasant winter walk and who do I run into? Bob! We, of course, have to cross the street for fear of the dog actually eating my new friend…but really this can only make me look worse. I mean, really, what a disguise – a mother walking her dog and child that immediately crosses the street when she “accidentally” runs into the man she has run into every day since last Tuesday?? A likely story.

Now, you might think he’s following me or running into me on purpose…but he’s ALWAYS there first! There is only one conclusion I can make.

It's me.

Just think of me as your friendly neighborhood stalker!

*I’ve changed some of this information so that if someone actually decides to stalk my nice gentleman stalkee, they cannot quite as easily do so. So please choose not to. Thank you.

1 comment:

  1. My name is Bob. I think I'm glad I don't know you, because by now I'd be freaked out.

    Funny though.