Nothing you can say, can take me away from my guy...
The Story of Creepy Dave

Creepy Dave is, as his name suggests, creepy. 22 years of age, never had a girlfriend, V-plates very much intact and frankly a little too keen to rip them up. I got to know of him, unsurprisingly, through Stalker Girl, who at one time fancied her chances with him (and was rebuffed - apparently Creepy Dave wasn't that keen to pop his man-cherry).

In addition to his irritating habit of referring to me and Stalker Girl as his "hobbit friends" (okay, so we are both pretty tiny, as anyone who saw me at the Finsbury Park bash will testify, but that's frankly offensive, only slightly less likely to make me cunt you in the fuck than the M-word and I seriously go postal if anyone calls me that) and generally considering us as one person, Creepy Dave has an annoying habit of latching on to girls he's interested in and either coming on to them in really overblown, disturbing ways, or else writing long and emo poems about the despair of unrequited love. There were a couple of girls he was friends with that I knew of that he decided to try it on with, and from what I could gather failed miserably.

Creepy Dave did, however, leave me alone until the end of our final year of uni. I found myself waiting around to take my French oral exam a couple of months ago and was unfortunate enough to find myself in the company of Creepy Dave, who offered to send me some music. I gave him my email address, not thinking he'd do me any harm as he was ostensibly chasing some poor girl he'd known for ages (much of the conversation consisted of how badly he failed with women).

Sure enough, Creepy Dave adds me to MSN within the next couple of weeks, and at first behaves pretty much normally. However, a couple of weeks of normal conversation later, the alarm bells begin to ring. At this time, I had neither a job nor a flat down here and was facing the prospect of living with my parents again. I mentioned this in passing to Creepy Dave, to receive the following response:

"Well babe I don't know what to suggest other than you fall in love with me and share my bed."
"Dave, you know I have a boyfriend and you know I'm moving in with him."
"Sorry babe but your boyfriend's a cock and I think you'd be better off with me."
"..."

This continued on and off for some time until he said "well having stalked this man on Facebook, I can honestly say that I am prettier than him and I am a gentleman. I am not like other men for I do not think with my penis. Sometimes I am ashamed to be male."

First of all I was slightly perturbed that he'd gone to the effort of looking Mr Maladicta up on Facebook, and by this time had let him know Creepy Dave was harassing me from time to time. Mr Maladicta promptly returns the favour, looks Creepy Dave (and his lovely emo poetry) up on Facebook, before bursting into hysterics "This berk thinks he has a chance with my girl? He looks like a mole! He tries it on again, you send him to me."

Not particularly wanting to involve Mr Maladicta and his plastic katana in the situation unless I have to, I decide that if I keep resisting, Creepy Dave has to eventually get bored and ask someone else to read his love poems. Unfortunately, this doesn't happen, and the offers of "you should come and live with me babe, I have a double bed ;)" become more and more frequent, and when he has to go "sorry babe, but I can't stay, you're becoming far too sexy a distraction". All in all, he does his best to charm me away from Mr Maladicta by the various methods of "he's a cock", "I am prettier than him, he's not good enough for my little friend", "I'm a gentleman" and "I have a double bed".

These serve no purpose other than to irritate me, especially the day I told him I wasn't going to the Summer Ball because neither I nor Mr Maladicta could afford it ("for me babe?" "No." "It'll be fun, when am I going to see my little friend again?" "I can't justify two lots of £42, plus suit hire for [Mr Maladicta] for a few hours in the union, NO, Dave, I will not go to the ball with you." "*sulks*") and eventually I tire of Creepy Dave refusing to tire of trying it on and hit my favourite button, the Block button.

All is peaceful for several weeks, until graduation. Having already successfully dodged having to talk to Stalker Girl (although I did have to make small talk with her mum, which was awkward at best) and having had long chats to most of my lecturers punctuated by my dad calling me an idiot in front of them for wanting to stay put (he did put a serious downer on my day and no mistake), I am chatting to a friend of mine when I feel an arm snake around my waist. And rests there like it's known me in the biblical sense for years and so has every right to be there.

My train of thought goes thusly: Mr Maladicta is not here, he is at work, and will be until 6pm. The time now is 4.30pm and if Mr Maladicta comes to campus he has to ring me because he doesn't have a clue where the hell he's going. Therefore, whoever has their arm around my waist is not my boyfriend and is possibly drunk. Therefore again, whoever has their arm around my waist is going to get a kick in the knackers if they don't let go and to hell with ceremony.

As inevitably as the tides, I look up to see Creepy Dave happily grinning down at me and thinking he's finally got a piece of Maladicta. I quickly disentangle myself from his claws and force a smile worthy of a politician.

"Hello hobbit! You coming to the union tonight? Come on, one last pissup!"
"No, I've got a friend coming to stay and I can't sign him in, if anything we'll just go to the pub."
(This was actually true, my friend Bob was coming down to stay and we were going to the pub, plus Bob really isn't a clubbing man, more of a ceilidh type).
"Aww little one, are you sure you can't come? Last Venue ever... for me?"
"No. I've been avoiding the Venue all year for a good reason... it's shit."
"Aww, so I really can't persuade you to come and get drunk and dance with me? Will you let me know if you go to the pub? I'll come join you."
"Yeah, Dave, sure... it'll probably be in town somewhere."
"Ooo. One more thing."

Creepy Dave produces a camera and asks the girl I've been talking to if she'd mind snapping a photo of us "to remind me of the little one". He then grabs my waist again and holds on, before I can say "no, go away" or tell Claire not to take it.

So now there is a photo of me on Facebook pulling the most horrific fake smile you've ever seen and clearly not enjoying being molested by Creepy Dave. I had to untag it just because I was ashamed of it, and I have a horrible mental image of Creepy Dave going round to his mates going "I've had her". Gaz me and I'll link you to the photo.
( Maladicta, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 20:16, 8 replies)

You find a boardgame sexy?
Or do you mean the entertaining misanthrope with the trilby?
( PopePollo defloculating the soup of the surreal, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 20:46, closed)

^ Entertaining misanthrope with the trilby all the way.
Prr.
( Maladicta, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 21:00, closed)

In that case, no
Wanting sexytimes with Yahtzee is only to be expected.
( PopePollo defloculating the soup of the surreal, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 21:17, closed)

Eesh
That's dreadful! You wouldn't believe the number of girls I know that have had unwanted attention from guys just like Creepy Dave. You were very restrained not to involve your other half, most of those girls would have begged their boyfriends to 'sort the guy out'.
Oh, just one thing, was it you that posted about your troublesome housemates, including one guy who kept on going on about 'ver Venyow!', and being obsessed with GTA? Don't know why i asked, it just rang a bell...
(pacman_40 Pocket Kleenex: for the wanker on the go, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 21:41, closed)

@ PopePollo
Are you new around these parts?

Nah, I blushed something rotten when he said a few weeks ago about "girlfriends of gamers who watch these reviews because they secretly want to fuck me".
( Maladicta, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 22:37, closed)

@ pacman
Yup, that was me - Housemates from Hell, and they feckin were! That's the self-same Venyaoooow mentioned there too, the crappest club in all of Canterbury (except the Works).
( Maladicta, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 22:38, closed)

im sick of guys like that...
I can be a fairly friendly guy, But I can read the signs that say back off!

I can understand why you didnt get Mr Maladicta more envolved (you care too much) for some reason you feel sorry for the poor guy. Well dont! He needs tough love! and I don't meen M&S I mean take him aside and tell him he's creeping you out! Explain that if he wants to be your friend atol he needs to back off a serious amount!

Worst thing is peeps like him make people jumpy about true romantics like myself!
(tammybear1985, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 4:45, closed)

So what on earth ...
... is the M-word?
(ubergeekian, Tue 2 Sep 2008, 10:30, closed)