When a bunch of syringes, plastic bottles and cigarette butts get stuck in your net... and nary a fish from the sea to be found

If a friend of yours had a stalker-- even an albeit harmless one-- who annoyed her, mostly by being entirely too presumptuous, how would you tell her to behave? Would you tell her to report the situation to some authority (job-related, law-related...)? Would you tell her that, because he is immune to social cues and oblivious about boundaries, he had the potential to be anything but harmless, thus inciting her fears? Would you tell her that she should ignore the situation and that might make it go away?

On the heels of a post in which I've advertised for the sort of person who would share enough of my values to have read some of the texts that are important to me, I feel I have to acknowledge that sometimes I set a wider net than I intend. I'm striving to be aware that I'm, to some degree, responsible for the attention I attract... and to, above all, not be a friggin' victim of my own psychic emissions. That said, I've had two situations with people-- both of whom happened to be men--who, while not exactly stalking me, did manage to fixate on me in ways that I found unnerving. And I got all of the above advice. None of these guidelines for how to dissuade one's stalker have I find particularly useful.

On the first point, I've tried it. Given, in the curious little fishbowl of my last job, sexual harassment was very de riguer and my supervisors seemed to think I could do my rebuffing for myself. When the returning of inappropriate gifts and unmitigated rudeness do nothing to run these dudes off, and you really do wish someone over your head would just lay down the law, well, don't count on it. If you don't make a move towards retaining an attorney, chances are, your boss isn't gonna think much of your complaints. Especially if you're the girl always getting in trouble for offering all comers glimpses of your exceptionally titillating upper arms. Our legal system supposedly provides a support system such that the person being infringed upon isn't responsible for doing the dirty work when attempting to drive away the infringer. But the system ain't foolproof. And while I'd hate to be the girl cowering behind workplace legal protocol, I also hate to be the girl who has to deal with an irritating situation that she didn't create. So, I would say, when seeking recourse for harassment in the workplace, be prepared that a unfairly large portion of the burden of resolution will still be assigned to the complainer. It sucks, but that's the way it is.

And regarding feeling scared when confronted with stalker-esque scenarios, I think this is also pretty lousy advice. Firstly, the more you fear, the more you draw that which you fear toward yourself. If you stay aware, but assume that the world at large means you no harm, your chances of getting raked over any sort of karmic coals tends to diminish-- or, at least, this is certainly true in my experience. Secondly, learning to trust your instincts is incredibly important. If you find someone annoying and yet you know good and well that person's never gonna track you down and shove the handle of a hairbrush up your ass, well, trust that feeling! Being scared is disempowering. While I would hedge my bets that women and men are equally subject to attracting the attention of unwanted gawkers and stalkers alike, I can't help but feel a little patronized when people feel they should warn me-- something like, "oh, he confessed LOVE for you? You better watch out! Someone like that could mean you harm!" Really, there's a huge difference between someone who is actually psycho and someone who never developed any skills for dealing with people he finds attractive beyond those he'd learned by the time he'd entered the 5th grade. You don't have to be scared of everyone. Some people are stupid, sure, but that doesn't mean they're gonna show up on your doorstep with a meathook and a nasty expression in their eyes.

But, in all honestly, the rule I constantly break in stalker-rebuffing etiquette is that I engage. Yes, fine, it pisses me right the hell off when someone makes the assumption that, because he or she is attracted to me, the chemistry they feel is mutual. A person who pays attention to other people knows when someone is attracted to him or her, and also when he or she has no shot. I have a massive ego and yet, I don't seem to have a problem noticing when someone is completely out of my league. It happens ALL THE TIME. Yes, even I have been attracted to people who are way too hot for me plenty of times. Yes, there ARE actually people hotter than yours truly-- AND I'm even humble enough to acknowledge their existence. Hard to believe? Yeah, I know it is.

But when people are merely polite to me, I do not interpret their actions as flirtations. And so, it really inspires my ire when people who, let's say, happen to have dicks, think something along the lines of "oh, hey, she appears heterosexual and I fit the criterion there. She smiled at me when I said 'good morning,' so clearly she's noticed that I fit the criterion. By criminy! She's aching to rock me ALL NIGHT LONG!" I assure you, when I smile at you and we've exchanged less than 30 words in our entire lives, and it's before 10 AM, I'm probably not thinking about doing much of anything other than not seeming annoyed that someone has butted into my quiet headspace at such an early hour.

So, yeah, I engage and I spout off and it drags it out and I get a sick little thrill that I can illicit a reaction. But dammit, I honestly do think that some folks don't know that what they do crosses lines until you TELL them. And I've learned this, too: you can be as articulate as humanly possible in explaining to that person how they've invaded your space, your life, your head... and how you think it's unfair that you now have to deal with an uncomfortable situation through no fault of your own... and how functioning grown-ups pay attention to the objects of their affection, such that they recognize when said objects just aren't into it, rather than projecting some far-fetched fantasy on the self-same said objects... but there's just no getting through. Some fantasies prove far too impenetrable for even the cold poke of reality to have a fair chance.

But, at least in articulating why I feel infringed upon, I feel as though I can resume some control over the situation. And perhaps that's a false sense of control. But if you don't tell people why they've pissed you off or made you uncomfortable, they're probably not going to take it upon themselves to amend their behavior.

And I don't want to cower. I'm not afraid of you. I'm annoyed by you, yes, but I'm not anybody's victim. All I ask is that you wise up and own your own cluelessness. And not mess with my friends any more.

UPDATE: Here's a link to an earlier chapter in this little mini-drama in my life. It is notable that the date on this post was about a year ago...and its subject matter preceded it by a couple of months. I suppose it's a good thing that I have not actually been present for any of the imaginary excitement this fellow has cooked up about me in his own head. Still, it's time for some getting-over-it, yeah?