Not intentionally but......
......I have had an issue recently where a series of unfortunate coincidences came together to make me look like a top grade loon. Before I start, I need to state that me and Mrs Hatred have been together for seven years and I'm a happy camper

My commute is a lengthy one starting as it does in Buckinghamshire and winding up near London Bridge. As I am not consistently office based, it has evolved into a tortuous affair where I drive down the M1 to near Stanmore station and take the long tube journey in from there. It takes an age but means I don't pay for when I don't use it.

Now it is not unusual day to day to see the same people getting on and off at various stations as is the case with any commute. Even though tubes are not timetabled as such, they are fairly consistent so naturally you see the same people. However in the case of one of my fellow passengers, it went a bit beyond the normal. I have no idea of her name to this day but she gets on at Westminster but instead of getting off at a more central station like the majority of passengers goes all the way up to Canon's Park in the same manner I do. She then gets picked up by car whilst I wander off into suburbia to pick up my car and do battle with the M1. This should not be a problem under normal circumstances but towards the end of last year for seven working days on the bounce, she boarded her tube and found me sat there. The odds are slightly long on that but not outrageously so. Nonetheless, I was concious that she gave me some funny looks and made an effort to sit further away. It was the eighth day where things went completely snafu.

I had a distributor over from abroad for some training and this went on beyond the normal finish of the day and it was gone 6.30 before I went to London Bridge to get a tube. "At least" thought I "I will not be sat waiting in a faintly menacing fashion for that girl." I boarded the first Stanmore train and realised I had left my book on my desk and the tube was abnormally free of tatty free papers so would be reduced to the iPod. I could scarcely believe as the tube pulled into Westminster that she was standing there ready to board the train. Maybe she had merely worked late, or maybe she had decided to not travel at the same time as the bloke who was always there waiting for her. Instead, here he was, an hour later, sat there without even a book to distract him. I sat very still and tried to find something remotely interesting in my bag. The 40 minutes to get to Canon's Park seemed very slow that night. I noticed she was anxious to get on her phone, the moment the tube got above ground.

Worse was to follow.

At Canons Park, we both get off and more for the desperate desire to part company, I nip off to the toilet, freshen up, and leave. I exit through the barrier and stroll briskly towards my car. There is a figure a few hundred yards ahead but I think nothing of it until I get a little closer. Of course it is may accidental stalking target walking into the maze of streets where my car is parked- she glances back as she turns a corner and of course sees me following. Now what do I do? Do I hang back and try not to look threatening or do I powerwalk past? I figure the last thing she wants to see is me accelerating behind her so I hang back and try and look happy and unthreatening. "Besides", I figure, "there are hundreds of houses here, she will go her way and I will go mine. Except of course she doesn't. Her path is exactly that of mine as she heads towards a house in a particular street.

Where my car sits parked outside.

Rarely have I seen another member of public look at me with the level of abject terror as I get in and drive away as quickly as I can. On the drive home I figure the best thing I can do is take the train the next day and reduce the chances of us meeting again to as near zero as possible. I even told Mrs Hatred what had happened lest her Majesty's finest popped by for a chat. Thankfully the following day passed without incident. The following week I was abroad and our fateful pairing came to an end.

This may sound a bit odd (and thankfully comparitively tame compared to some of the tales here) but I felt like an utter bastard for some time afterwards. This was worse when she boarded the tube just before Christmas visibly pregant. Anxious as I am to avoid being labelled a filthy stalker, I now go home a bit later and use a different carriage on the tube.

Length?- nowhere near as long as that journey felt.
(Leonard Hatred briefly did some work on, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 12:57, 6 replies)

The irony being...
... that if you tried to explain any of this to her you might very well come across as even more scary.

I know what you mean about the utter bastardness though - on occasion I've been walking home from work late at night and found myself behind a girl on her own, and you can't help but feel like a dirty shit, even though you're just going home - the knowledge that you're creeping them out does not feel good!
(irv made you eat your parents in a chilli on, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:14, closed)

I hate that feeling...
Woo to you, Sir.
( Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...", Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:34, closed)

spot on...
this has happened to me so many times (albeit not to this extent) coming out of tube stations or perhaps out of a shop that you've both been shopping in... I find there are two voices in my head, one saying "I'M NOT A MENTAL SERIAL KILLER FOLLOWING YOU HOME!" and another saying, "please don't turn down my street please don't turn down my street"... I can't quite describe the futile heights of frustration that occurs when you see them do exactly that. *clicks*
(perfectrhys come find me on PS3., Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:35, closed)

Yup
Know that feeling, although not to quite the same extent. But you do just feel bad walking home at night sometimes, because there just HAPPENS to be a woman walking in front of you, who appears to be getting a little creeped.

Thought I could get past it once by crossing the road and then power walking past. Didn't work. She later crossed the road too, not noticing I had, looked over her shoulder and quickend her step as the potential hairy oxford rapist/mugger/murderer had gained ground on her. :(
( The4thCrystal Wishes he was better at photographamising..., Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:37, closed)

Come clean sir...
...'accidental' eh?

But seriously - click - for telling a universal truth so eloquently.

Che
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 13:46, closed)

I've been there
Plenty of times walking down a street or out and oyu just are on the same path as someone else.
Also can happen in Pubs, which is worse cos alcohol is involved and you both keep going the bar at the same time!
Saw a sketch on TV once with a lad following a girl across a park and all the thoughts going through his head.
At the end of the sketch he screams 'I'M NOT STALKING YOUUUUUU!'
Classic...
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 1 Feb 2008, 14:34, closed)