he was short, greasy and ginger.
After my A-levels, my part-time shop job turned in to a full-time shop job, at least until I left for Uni. So, if you'd really wanted to stalk me, it would have been quite easy, and being a shop, difficult to prove.

However, it's altogether different when the person practically tells you they're doing it. He was a friend of a colleague, who used to come in occasionally, as many others' friends had, to speak to him. Until he started coming in and asking me where his friend was, on occasions when said friend wasn't working.

One afternoon he did just that, then added "actually I didn't come in to see ----, I came in to see you". Cue (very) long pause. At this point I'm tidying the sale rail; a round rail of shirt dresses. How does he break the silence? "I bet girls who wear those dresses don't wear any knickers under them. [pause] Would you wear that dress?"

I stared, he left.

He then turned up at the pub after work once, where I proceeded to ignore him. I was told he'd won least popular person at school, or something equally embarrassing.

He only stopped after a friend's birthday party, where I managed to accidentally (and genuinely accidentally, much as I'd like to hope otherwise) knock his beer over him. And, as the birthday girl's dad decided to take a picture of her with her work colleagues, tell him to "fuck off, you're not even supposed to be here".

Probably not as scary as most stalking stories, but he creeped me out. He was as short as me (I'm about 5'4"), had curly ginger hair that was greased/gelled to his head, and looked about twelve.

I have never actually stalked, despite leaving my home town with a reputation for doing so in a round about way.
(heartofglass, Sun 3 Feb 2008, 12:56, 1 reply)

Lesson learned there...
...next time, chuck a pint of beer over a pest as soon as possible. Will get rid of him, make you feel great and give you ammo for more posting!
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 4 Feb 2008, 13:47, closed)