The blessed Cornish
The definitions of stalking in these stories range from the scary to what I could easily regard as a daily occurrence - looking up exes on Facebook et al – to the just a bit mental. Dianne was in the just a bit mental category.

In between uni and post grad, I moved back to the sunnier climes of home, Cornwall. And back home with my ma. Joy.

Taking a job in a local, and somewhat famous boozer in Newquay, (think where ship folk may head), I passed the time and had some fun before more studying. Now although I derive from said town, I’d been away for many years at uni, almost unheard of there but what ho. So, I had to make new friends, and become reacquainted with old friends from school and what not. So, new friend and my fellow barman introduced one night introduced to me his cousin, Dianne.

Blonde, tanned, bit cute. Thought, cool, and we set about and ‘enjoyed some time together’ … which was a bit odd really. Now, I do like participation in said activity, not just to lie there and act as though you’re watching TV, when there’s no TV on. And even bat an eyelid when it goes in the wrong hole (even though I continued). Night of fun wasn’t that fun and in the morning she left for home. We swapped numbers and texts here and there. Met up another night, tried for some more fun but this time she talked while I was trying to engage in naked activities, and was all just a bit off putting.

So I kinda thought would be best if we went our separate ways. Which I thought she agreed with. Until she started hanging out with some new friends of mine. Who liked drinking in the bar where I worked. So, every shift when mates would come in, so would she. And when I would go out with mates, oh, Dianne would turn up.

Only went of for a month or so. It stopped when I came home one night from work and while having a chat with mother dearest (who herself had been out) I noticed someone was afoot in my bedroom and found someone asleep in my bed, (we didn’t lock our front door in those days) I kinda put my foot down after that and told her under no circumstances to leave me alone. Which was nice as she did.

See I don’t think there was any malice or evil in Dianne, I think she was a bit bonkers and perhaps I didn’t make it as obvious as I could that I didn’t want to see her again. But getting into my bed and sleeping is not allowed. And not even wincing (and continuing talking) while taking the naughty step, just weirded me out.

Length, I thought it was bigger.
(CornishStanley can't post hyperlinks, Tue 5 Feb 2008, 15:41, Reply)