Earlier today I mentioned a few of the things in life that My Stalker dislikes.
These things included, in no particular order:
After all of that, I assumed that today’s edition of “Crazy Person Theatre” was over after she brought me some of the most questionable cotton candy this side of a Wal-Mart food court and disappeared.
I was wrong.
She came back roughly ten minutes ago ranting and raving about many other things she dislikes which include:
-Apparently caterers take issue with creepy women who stalk their food tables in hopes of sneaking off with a bunch of food that they should in no way be privy to. Who knew?! This attitude amongst the catering community infuriates My Stalker. Shocking.
-It seems that there are some students doing karaoke in the student center right now. She went over there to use a microwave or something—no, I didn’t ask what for—and stumbled upon the aforementioned karaoke and proceed to flip her shit. It seems that she dislikes it when people don’t know the words to songs. I can only assume this means her CD collection is void of any Ashlee Simpson albums.
-It’s almost Cambridge Science Week or something and My Stalker hates Science Week. Apparently she volunteered to help a few years ago or something and they made her stand outside—you know, like in the sun and pleasant spring temperatures and all that—to serve as a greeter. This angered her to no end. I guess she assumed they’d let volunteers play with the nuclear reactor or clone some sheep or some shit like that. They did not. She’s still holding a grudge, against the outdoors.
-In her rant about her volunteering “nightmare” she mentioned that they didn’t provide food for the volunteers. Being that she’s the epitome of a freakin’ vulture, this annoyed her to no end; especially when they had the audacity to feed the children. It should be noted that she did, however, steal plenty of food from the event. So there’s that.
Out of Towners
-She went on some random tangent midstream during her Science Week rant about people from—well—any place other than Cambridge. It seems that she absolutely hates when people don’t know where things are and they ask directions and whatnot. She even suggested that there be some orientation process for all outsiders before they’re allowed in Cambridge.
…and that about sums up the latest things she dislikes.
It should, however, be mentioned that the one thing she does like—as established earlier today—is “feeding growing boys” and she was in full-force during her third trip into the library.
When came meandering back into the library—full of vitriol and something that required microwaving—she had somehow happened upon an entire grocery bag-full of chips. She then proceeded to hand me bag after bag of chips.
Cap’n Charisma: “Yeah, I really don’t need any more chips.”
My Stalker: “Nonsense, you’re a growing boy…”
Cap’n Charisma: “No, seriously…that’s plenty.”
My Stalker: “THEN TAKE THEM HOME TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!”
She then revealed an entire platter’s worth of mini-desserts she’d undoubtedly pilfered from the aforementioned caterer. In what I can only envision as a Mission Impossible-esque scheme to escape with the desserts, she’d dumped the entire platter into a bag (note: she carries a lot of bags) that was full of papers and Kleenex and other things of that ilk.
She pulled out handful after handful of mini-Rice Krispy bars and brownies and other delectable treats that—in dang near any other situation—would be awesome and proceeded to line them up on the counter. She then pulled out some mini-paper plates, from yet another bag, and re-arranged the desserts for me on the small plates.
Presentation is important, you know.
She then told me to have a great weekend and enjoy the walk back to Central Square after work and she disappeared.
I’ve never told her that I live in Central Square.