Freak Magnet Dave

Confrontation scares me. Just moments ago I saw a group of teens walking past my store and one of them threw down his food container from the nearby fast food joint on the lawn. My first instinct was to go outside and tell the little shit to pick up the garbage he dropped. But since he was with a group of friends, I imagine he would just further try to prove himself to be a big man and tell me to fuck off. And I don't need to get into all the grief with asshole teenagers vandalizing my business, so I let it go. The funny thing is that my body was going through some severe shakes as my adrenaline was pumping, and it reminded me of something that took place during the move.

As I have mentioned in past posts, The Squeeze's brother (aka the brother-in-law, or BIL) had been dating a psychopath for a while last year. She had and continues to have some issues. They split up back in November after she became jealous of his friendship with an older lady he has known for years. She had a major freak-out in front of a number of people at one of their church functions and told him he can go and marry this other woman because she's through with him. Whatever. Of course the usual "that's the last you'll hear from me" shit followed. If only we were all so lucky. Her incessant phone calls continued. She kept trying to tell BIL that he needs to get help with his problems. Hello, Kettle? It's Pot. You're black. She seems to think he's bi-polar or some such thing, when in fact, she's just a fucking lunatic.

Well, a few months back, BIL met someone else at some sort of convention, and he has been in steady contact with this new woman. Good for him. Bad for psycho. She still seems to have some delusion that they are getting back together. As I said, the phone calls continued. I even ordered call privacy from my phone company so she can't use the old "private name, private number" trick. We continued to get calls from her home, her work and her new cell. BIL gave us the numbers, so The Squeeze and I steered clear of answering any calls from those numbers. BIL did continue to talk with the psycho, which really wasn't doing her any favours in the long run, but that's his decision to make.

BIL had decided that since The Squeeze and I were moving, that he would start a new chapter in his life and move out of province to where this new gal of his lives. When the psycho heard of that she started to get pretty desperate. The calls became more frequent, she even came by the house a few times. It was getting ridiculous. As his final days in this area were drawing to a close things really became unbearable. She would give him the old sob story. "You'll move across the country for this woman. You'd never do that for me." Sheesh. No, he wouldn't. But he would move across the country to get away from you, so you do the math.

The night before he left, she called the house at 11:30 at night. BIG faux pas at our house. The next morning she called at 9:00 and left a message. "Hi BIL, I hope I'm not waking you up. I know you were up late packing up, but I just had a thought. Remember that laundry bag I bought you? Well, I figured since you're moving, you won't have room for it, so I'd like to have it back. OK, call me when you get up."

I KID YOU NOT! What a lame-ass excuse to call and talk to him again. I want my laundry bag back? Give me a fucking break!

After BIL woke up, I told him of the message. A few minutes later she called again. An hour later, another call. Finally, BIL left to pick up his kids (they were visiting family together first). The psycho called again. And again. The Squeeze was getting ready to pick up the phone and tell her he wasn't here so she would stop calling, but it stopped ringing before he picked up.

Now, bear in mind that we were packing and lugging a lot of our belongings out to the truck, and I was busily wrapping artwork to be transported. The stress levels were already high with the ongoing move, and her constant calls were not helping.

Then it happened.

She called again.

I have had it.

I picked up the phone.

"How many times do you have to call here in one morning?"

-"Hi BIL? Oh...Dave. Hi, is BIL home?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you constantly calling here. You are pissing us all off and driving us crazy with your fucking calling every hour."

-"No....listen, I-"

"No, shut the fuck up!"

-"But I just-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me! You guys broke up almost a year ago and you're still hanging on. He doesn't want anything to do with you. You are fucking nuts. You're obsessed with him. Can you not take a hint?"

-"I just want-"

"Shut the fuck up! If you call here again I am calling the police and putting a restraining order on you. Do you understand?"

-"Listen, I just-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

-"But-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

-"yes"

"That's it! The calls are over. You will not call us or come near us again."

-"Is he gone already?"

"What does it matter to you? If he wanted you to know, he would have told you the details. You are pathetic. You need to get some help."

And that was the last call from the psycho. The funny thing is that The Squeeze was putting things in the truck when she called, so he missed the first part of the call, but when he came in and I was screaming into the phone, I think he kinda knew who it was.

When I got off the phone, I was trembling. My hands were shaking and it felt like my brain was vibrating in my skull. My stomach was queasy and my heart was pounding. That adrenaline is amazing stuff. So after sitting down for a few minutes I was back at the packing. Still a bit trembly, but better. With one violent outburst, I have found serenity.