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2007-03-22 @ 3:27 p.m.
riverdance this, norman bates

Yesterday when I was out in “A”s waiting room I was listening to his classical music station and the announcer was saying it was Bach’s birthday. So wanting to appear all nerdy and intellectual for “A”, after I walked into his office and wished him a “Happy First Day of Spring”, I told him that it was Bach’s birthday. He briefly glanced up from the mail he was opening and said, “I’m not a big organ man...”, which of course immediately sent me into a brief spasm of laughter, since absolutely everything is filtered through the vast wittykitty sexual innuendo filter. Heh, heh. Not a big organ man. Good one "A"! I'm so junior high.
Bach’s music, by the way, is all organ. Dang, I hate when I have to explain the jokes.

Anyways, since I am still suffering from my sinusitis, once I went to the food pantry yesterday, I just laid down for an extended nap in the afternoon in preparation for my art class. This whole week has been confusing, since my batik class ended and “A” was on a different day and the Moon was like lined up with Pluto.

I finally had a quick dinner and headed down to the community center around 6:30. Charlemagne wasn’t there, so I helped “J” set up. It was a fairly light turn out and we had some skinny chick model (they’re so boring to draw. No shadows or curves to draw, but at least it wasn’t Beaknose).

I had gotten an e-mail from our Fearless Art Leader that he was sending me a used computer tower from his school. I had written him early last week and said the other guy I had been waiting on since early January had still not brought in the computer yet and my computer was having major problems. I was excited, but I also was about 98% certain that the other guy was finally going to be coming through this week (the e-mails had crossed in the mail). So guess what I have in my teeny tiny living room? Go ahead guess!! TWO computer towers!!! Well, actually three counting the one I’m still typing on. I guess when it rains it pours. Now I just have to figure out how to transfer all my stuff to the new one. Eeek!

The night was pretty sedate. It was the Professional Artist Guy’s birthday and I had actually remembered it from a conversation last August, so yay for the New and Improved Sociable Me for remembering. He seemed genuinely pleased. His girlfriend brought in a platter of miniature cupcakes after the class and we all sang the poor guy the worst rendition of “Happy Birthday” evah!

We finally all got out of the building around 11. “J” and Sci Fi Guy both loaded their corresponding computer boxes into my car and left. I got into my car and locked the doors like I always do. The community center is in about a medium safe neighborhood. So I’m backing my car out of this tiny little parking lot and I see this man coming up behind me waving his arms, so naturally I slam on my brakes. Its not like I was doing a NASCAR or anything. So he comes up to my window and waves his hand for me to roll down my window. He didn’t look totally dangerous, like some gangsta with a gun or anything, so I fumbled with the controls in the dark, trying to differentiate between the car door locks and the window buttons. I finally rolled the window down a crack...enough to hear him say:

“I saw your picture on the internet. I won tickets to “Riverdance”. I want to take you out.”


Here it is about 11:15 at night. Its dark. Its raining. Its a fucking parking lot. And some guy is stepping out of the shadows asking me to “Riverdance”???

And I was also sitting in my car thinking “Photo on the on the internet...OH.MY.GOD” because I do have another website where I practice the art of photography and I had just put up a particularly (cough)interesting photo of myself on Wednesday and I was thinking, holy fuck, did he see THAT photo??

So I nervously asked him if he had seen my photo on MySpace, because I occasionally get local men snooping around MySpace and he said “No, I found you on Yahoo Personals”. Now I put an ad on there like 3 years ago and I had never gotten a single response (yay me!!). The only thing that happens with them is that they send me weekly lists of “matches” which rather amusingly recently included the Executive Office Manager for the entire agency I used to work for. Heh! I doubt if he’d want to go out with one of the crazies from the agency, but we always did have good repoire.

So now I’m sitting there wondering, just how would a guy out in Internetland be able to glean from a very generic personal ad that I, Miss wittykitty, would be sitting in a nekkid drawing class on a Wednesday night at the community center? HOW?? And what was worse was, that as I was looking up at him, I realized that he had been in my art class too. Being a board member of our art group I have to meet and greet new people and I had noticed him sitting over near “L” the Hippie Chick. So did this guy come into our art for the class...sit and stare at me for three hours...leave....then wait for an additional hour outside until I came out with my friends and then wait even longer until everyone left just to ask me on a date?


Creepy!!!!!!!! He was a big bear of a man with a big gray bushy beard...not exactly someone I would look at and say “woo!”. So I finally just said, “No thank you” and drove away with my heart pounding a little Ravel's "Bolero". When I got home I immediately called “L” the Hippie Chick and told her about what had happened. She thought it was weird too and said she had talked to him in class and that he seemed like a “control freak”. Ya think?? Waiting until a woman is all alone in a dark parking lot to ask her for a date?

I then called my mom and told her and she said, “I didn’t want to tell you this” and I’m like “What?” Her: “I had a vision” (She’s like psychic Sylv1a Br0wn’s biggest fan). “I saw a man come up to your car and you opened your door and...” And I was like “What? Did he do something with his penis?” Her: “No. He beat you up.” Oh great, just what I needed to hear. And my mom was also pissed that I opened my car window since according to her “look at all the people who trusted serial killer Ted Bundy!” Thanks mom. And you wonder why I grew up fraught with anxiety.

So am I overreacting? Not really sure. I am definitely a little anxious about whether he’ll make another appearance at my art class next week. I know I will definitely have one of my art guy buddies walk me out to my car in case he’s lurking in the shadows somewhere.

Oh, and I deleted my profile on Yahoo. Nobody needs a date that bad.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty