Ugh
When I was the tender age of 18, I was decidedly unpopular with the boys. All my friends seemed to be able to merely sniff in the direction of a young man and he'd come running. Not so poor Vesty, I seemed forever confined to the "You're a great mate, but...." pit that every teenager dreads. I had a great bunch of mates though, but as happens when you're young, a large amount of your sense of self-worth hangs on whether you have someone to hold hands with in the college refectory.

Shock horror though, one evening a lovely long-haired youth with similar grungy musical tastes to my own wanders in to the pub were I work, as his friend fancies one of the other barmaids. We get talking, and hey presto, Vesty has a boyfriend. Wahey! Things don't work out unfortunately and due to my lack of eagerness to shag him within the space of a week or so, I find out he's biffing an ex of his (lovingly referred to as Sticky Vicky by his mates) so become rather upset and dump him, all my teenage romantic notions in tatters. His mate who was in the pub with him the first time pays me a lot of attention after getting short shrift from the other barmaid and for some reason (I still don't really know why over 10 years later) I agree to go out with him. Once. He's 10 years older than me, is divorced with 2 kids (by 2 different mothers), a car salesman and, to be honest, a chav. Likes to flash a lot of cash around, likes gold jewellery, borrows Ford Escorts from his work and pretends they're his. After one date, he decides we're in love and I'll never leave his side. Oh, why wasn't I more attuned to the favourite refrain of the unstable person back then?
He openly laughs at the clothes I wear, which are your typical late 90's grunge-girl style clothes. Torn shorts and jumpers, stripy tights, para boots. Whilst he's in his best Lacoste abomination. Still, I put up with it. I don't have much self esteem these days, but I must have been seriously in the minus figures back then. He repeatedly calls me stupid in front of his mates, drinks before driving his car, is jealous of any of my male friends, badgers me constantly to have sex with him without a condom, refuses to speak to a friend of mine who is gay (because it's just wrong, according to his tiny brain) and is just a twat, really. After about a month I've had enough and give him the elbow. Only it's not that simple. He refuses to let me out of his car when I announce my wish to terminate our 'relationship', driving to an industrial estate several miles from my house and ranting at me for several hours, holding both my wrists with one hand to prevent me from getting out and running like Flo Jo. Every time I repeat that I no longer wish to be his girlfriend, he simply says "no." I explain that's not how it works, but to no avail. Eventually I placate him with a promise to talk the next day and am freed and driven home. Terrified, I plan never to see him again.

He starts sending flowers. Every day. To my house, to my 6th form college, to my Saturday job, to the pub I work in. Everywhere I go, flowers. He sends my mother cards thanking her for having "such a lovely daughter". He tells people at the pub where I work how awful I've been to him, meaning that I get it in the neck during my shifts there, despite my protestations that he is a loony and a nob jockey. One Sunday afternoon he turns up in the pub and asks if we can be friends. I stupidly feel sorry for him with everyone watching and say yes. Upon arriving for work that evening I receive a phone call from the hospital, were he's been taken after taking an overdose of paracetamol. Calculating bastard knew where I'd be, gave the phone number of the pub to the nurses, didn't ask them to inform any of his family. So I went to see his brother and let him sort it out.

Over the next few weeks my Mum finds someone in our back garden at night who runs away. She thinks it's him. I get a very accusatory phone call from him as he's lost his shitty car sales job because he's always late if he turns up at all, and just plays solitaire on the computer when he is there. This is my fault, as he can't work due to his broken heart.

Thankfully by this time I am due to leave and go to University. Many, many miles away. He finds out through various channels the City at which I'm studying. And drives up there, asking about areas that students live in until he one day finds my car. Being young and naive, even after everything else that's happened, I'm still stupid enough to let him in to my flat. He doesn't leave. In later weeks I find out that he quizzes my fellow flatmates for hours about who I spend time with, people at Uni I fancy, etc. That's the worst part of this whole sorry tale, those girls were as scared of him as I was. I study sound engineering at Uni, meaning I have to book the use of recording studios. Sometimes late at night, or even in the early hours of the morning. He forbids this, despite the stupidity and futility of attempting to do so. When I go anyway he waits outside the building until I'm finished, and gets me a pager so he can contact me whenever he wants. He also wakes me up every half an hour during the night asking who I was in the session with, do they have girlfriends, do I like them? The same questions, every half an hour. Eventually I'm in tears and just want to beat the crap out of the fat idiot.

A few weeks into term I'm invited to work on a project with some older students, which is a good opportunity for me to learn stuff. However, he REALLY doesn't like this, and finds their phone numbers written on a bit of paper in my jeans pocket and proceeds to phone their houses every half an hour demanding to know where I am. Their housemates (who have never even met me) are understandably not impressed.

One day whilst snooping in my stuff he finds a video taken during one of my studio sessions with the older students in which I slag him off royally for a long period of time. After getting any of my flatmates he can find in to watch it and express their (mock) outrage, he confronts me and then leaves. Hooray!

He then proceeds to page me constantly at all hours of the day and night, literally every 10 minutes or so. I take the battery out of the pager.

A week later he's outside the gates of my Uni building, with his brother's dog that he has dragged hundreds of miles in an attempt to woo me back, telling me he has testicular cancer. When I ignore him he starts shouting abuse and throwing various possessions at me, and is luckily chased off by a bunch of workmen I run past as I try to flee to my halls.

After a while I though things ahd calmed down a bit. Then I started receiving letters at my halls from his ex-wife, telling me that I was stupid, and she wished she could get back together with him. He also gave letters to any of my friends who were still at home, stating that he loved me more than his children (ugh!) and I'd said I loved him too. It's true, I did. But it was half out of fear, and meant in that 19-year-old way that just kinda means "I think you're ok".

One of the girls I shared halls with sang in a Soul band near where I come from, so I ended up being their sound engineer at the weekends for some extra cash. On one weekend her Mum drove me from her house round to my parents, completely on the spur of the moment. He was parked outside my parents house, with his kids in the car. He had his kids for the day and just sat them in the car outside my parent's house all f*cking day on the offchance I'd be there.

On return to Uni later that night I called the police, something I should have done a long time before that incident. But I was very young, and very, very scared. Thankfully he mainly left me alone after the police had a word with him. And I'm very good at spotting potential psycho boyfriends for mates now. Luckily for me all my subsequent beaus have been lovely chaps who I'm still friends with.

I don't live in the same town anymore (Nuneaton if anyone's interested, as I see the wonderful scummy inbred residents of the place have already had mention in this QOTW), but friends of mine still see him occasionally and he still follows them for half an hour or so if he notices them. I also know that he's still preying on 18/19 year-old girls who I'm guessing, like me, are too impressionable to put up much of a fight to his behaviour, sick twat. As for his poor kids, I only hope now they're older they have the sense not to see their Dad any more. He treated them worse than pets when he saw them, shoving McDonalds down their throats to keep them quiet then plonking them in front of a video while he would 'seduce' me.
(VestanPance, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 12:22, 8 replies)

Jesus.
I can see a few ways that could have got even nastier.
(Big D, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:25, closed)

Sheesh
What a grade A cunt stain. Seems to me the best part of that bloke dribbled down his mother's leg at the moment of conception.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:55, closed)

Wow, what an epic post!
Good read - glad he's out of your life at least :)
( Weetobix, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 15:00, closed)

He sounds.....
....like a lovely bloke, why would you want rid of him? :)
(JasperSinister is offering two tickets to the gun show, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 15:40, closed)

wow.
you must have had a really low opinion of yourself to let such a life-sucking fuckstick like that dominate you. still, you're lucky you realised you were way too good for him, i've known girls who stick with men like that for decades because they think they don't deserve any better. if you ever see him again, just give him a really snotty look and say "wtf makes a turd like you think you have the right to even breathe the same air as me?"
that should deflate the little cocksucker.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 19:39, closed)

What a freak. I'm glad you got shot of him in the end :)
And the residents of Nuneaton and their sworn enemies the chavs of Hinckley will be first against the wall when I am queen of teh world :) have a click!
( Maladicta, Sat 2 Feb 2008, 12:14, closed)

sweet zombie jesus!
I want to give you a hug.
(posthumous mince is tiptoeing through the tulips, Sun 3 Feb 2008, 1:52, closed)

That
Was probably good for you to get that out of your system.

What a tool.

I recommend lot's of alcohol to blot the guy from your memory.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sun 3 Feb 2008, 5:45, closed)