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The following is a personal account of what happened to me recently in the Canadian city I live in.
I think it's an interesting situation to know about.
It was almost 10p.m, and May 7th, 2007-a quiet Monday night. I had just returned from a meeting. After putting my handbag away, I changed into comfortable clothes, turned on some music, sat down at my computer and checked my e-mail. Most of the material sitting in the inbox was spam-however, there was an email from somebody I thought I knew, but couldn’t place. As well, the email he’d sent sounded peculiar. It was an email asking me to visit a certain website.
I pulled up his email address, made a mental note of his screen name, messaged his screen name through an instant messaging software, and questioned him about the email. He asked me how I was, and said it had been very long time since he had talked to me. It was then that it hit me.
A number of years ago, this man had contacted me through the Internet. At the time, I was attending college. He and I started instant messaging one another every now and then. He told me about his childhood in Afghanistan during the Russian invasion. The experiences he had were frightening, and saddening-the situations he had encountered as a child were grotesque in nature. I expressed an interest in doing an essay on him. He had been through experiences people don’t think about everyday, which was one of the reasons I wanted to do an essay on him. He agreed to be interviewed, and we set a date.
The interview went as planned, and by the end of the week I had submitted a brilliant essay to my instructors…
When I met him, the man came across extremely shy, proper, quiet, and respectful.
I did agree to meet him again one evening to express my thanks to him for the interview. Afterwards, I sensed he had instantly become needy, and formed an immediate attachment to me. I decided to back off, and cut off all communication with him, as I had never had any intention of pursing him in a romantic way.
A few years later, I was getting my hair done at a salon. Having admired my haircut, I headed for the exit. A man seated at the doorway greeted me. I didn’t recognize him at first, and was startled he knew my name. It was him- the man I’d interviewed years ago. He had changed his hair. His dark hair now had blonde streaks in it. He approached me, and said, “You haven’t been returning my phone calls…â€
Hesitant, I kept our conversation short, and then left the salon. I walked home, emailed him, and told him I have a boyfriend who I was engaged to. (I could think of no other way of hinting to him that I wasn’t interested in him.) I did not hear from him after that-until now, as I sat at my computer.
The time was now 2:00a.m. He instant messaged me, and asked me repeatedly to call him. Finally, I placed the call to his cell phone, dialing the number he typed out. I would soon come to know it was a big mistake. At first, his conversation with me was normal. He asked me how I was, said it had been ages since he and I had talked-asked me about the man I said I was going to be married to, e.t.c, e.t.c. I talked to him politely, and kept it diplomatic. I asked him if he was still living at the house we had our interview in, and said, “Are you living somewhere else now?â€
He answered,†close to you…†This made me a little uncomfortable.
As it turned out, he was now living across a field behind the neighborhood I am in. He was also extremely close to my house. This didn’t sit well with me.
He proceeded to try and convince me to step outside my house, and walk with him. I refused. It was late, I said. I wouldn’t be stepping out to meet him.
All of a sudden, his voice changed, and he started talking to me in an extremely inappropriate manner. He asked me to go with him to his house, promising nobody would notice I was in there with him. He would “keep me in his basement,†he said flirtatiously.
I was taken aback at his flirtation and angry he was talking to me in such a raw, disrespectful way. I told him he had changed greatly from when I had last met him. He said, “I’m not shy anymore…I know what a girl likes…†He said, it wasn’t that he meant to scare me or anything, but he’d been anticipating “other†things the day I had interviewed him. He said, he was “scared and excited†that I would come onto him, and explained a he had a secret sexual relationship with an older woman as a child back in Afghanistan.
I told him not to expect such things, and he could be assured such things would never take place between the two of us. He continued to flirt with me for a time.
He asked me,†do you like doing it in bed-or in the shower?â€
I demanded what he was talking about, to which he said he knew what girls did when they were alone to find relief. I told him to shut up, and not talk to me in this manner.
He said, “If we weren’t such close friends, I would come there and make you moan-but I don’t think you know how to moan…come on, react to me. Talk dirty to me. I want to see you react.â€
Then, all of a sudden-he paused, and asked, “Why is the light in your room still on?†I bolted upright in my chair, and swore at this-realizing he had walked to my house, and was staring up at my room window. (He’d obviously memorized the location of my home, as he had dropped me off at my house after our interview years ago.)
He said, “Don’t worry-I’ll be gone by the time you get to the window.†I told him he was bluffing, and that I called his bluff. He responded, fine, he was walking back to my house.
“What are you going to do when you get here?†I said incredulously.
“I’m going to come up to your room.â€
I laughed at this, and said, “Go ahead, you can meet my brother, too, while you’re at it-he’s home.†At this point, I told him to call it a night, and finally, ended the conversation. He asked how it was going to be-should he call me, or was I going to call him in the future? I told him it wasn’t a good idea, either way.
The night of May 24th, 2007, he contacted me online, and said I had “never called him.†I told him he had to leave me alone starting right then, and I didn't want to talk to him. He said, “Okay fine.â€
I think it's an interesting situation to know about.
It was almost 10p.m, and May 7th, 2007-a quiet Monday night. I had just returned from a meeting. After putting my handbag away, I changed into comfortable clothes, turned on some music, sat down at my computer and checked my e-mail. Most of the material sitting in the inbox was spam-however, there was an email from somebody I thought I knew, but couldn’t place. As well, the email he’d sent sounded peculiar. It was an email asking me to visit a certain website.
I pulled up his email address, made a mental note of his screen name, messaged his screen name through an instant messaging software, and questioned him about the email. He asked me how I was, and said it had been very long time since he had talked to me. It was then that it hit me.
A number of years ago, this man had contacted me through the Internet. At the time, I was attending college. He and I started instant messaging one another every now and then. He told me about his childhood in Afghanistan during the Russian invasion. The experiences he had were frightening, and saddening-the situations he had encountered as a child were grotesque in nature. I expressed an interest in doing an essay on him. He had been through experiences people don’t think about everyday, which was one of the reasons I wanted to do an essay on him. He agreed to be interviewed, and we set a date.
The interview went as planned, and by the end of the week I had submitted a brilliant essay to my instructors…
When I met him, the man came across extremely shy, proper, quiet, and respectful.
I did agree to meet him again one evening to express my thanks to him for the interview. Afterwards, I sensed he had instantly become needy, and formed an immediate attachment to me. I decided to back off, and cut off all communication with him, as I had never had any intention of pursing him in a romantic way.
A few years later, I was getting my hair done at a salon. Having admired my haircut, I headed for the exit. A man seated at the doorway greeted me. I didn’t recognize him at first, and was startled he knew my name. It was him- the man I’d interviewed years ago. He had changed his hair. His dark hair now had blonde streaks in it. He approached me, and said, “You haven’t been returning my phone calls…â€
Hesitant, I kept our conversation short, and then left the salon. I walked home, emailed him, and told him I have a boyfriend who I was engaged to. (I could think of no other way of hinting to him that I wasn’t interested in him.) I did not hear from him after that-until now, as I sat at my computer.
The time was now 2:00a.m. He instant messaged me, and asked me repeatedly to call him. Finally, I placed the call to his cell phone, dialing the number he typed out. I would soon come to know it was a big mistake. At first, his conversation with me was normal. He asked me how I was, said it had been ages since he and I had talked-asked me about the man I said I was going to be married to, e.t.c, e.t.c. I talked to him politely, and kept it diplomatic. I asked him if he was still living at the house we had our interview in, and said, “Are you living somewhere else now?â€
He answered,†close to you…†This made me a little uncomfortable.
As it turned out, he was now living across a field behind the neighborhood I am in. He was also extremely close to my house. This didn’t sit well with me.
He proceeded to try and convince me to step outside my house, and walk with him. I refused. It was late, I said. I wouldn’t be stepping out to meet him.
All of a sudden, his voice changed, and he started talking to me in an extremely inappropriate manner. He asked me to go with him to his house, promising nobody would notice I was in there with him. He would “keep me in his basement,†he said flirtatiously.
I was taken aback at his flirtation and angry he was talking to me in such a raw, disrespectful way. I told him he had changed greatly from when I had last met him. He said, “I’m not shy anymore…I know what a girl likes…†He said, it wasn’t that he meant to scare me or anything, but he’d been anticipating “other†things the day I had interviewed him. He said, he was “scared and excited†that I would come onto him, and explained a he had a secret sexual relationship with an older woman as a child back in Afghanistan.
I told him not to expect such things, and he could be assured such things would never take place between the two of us. He continued to flirt with me for a time.
He asked me,†do you like doing it in bed-or in the shower?â€
I demanded what he was talking about, to which he said he knew what girls did when they were alone to find relief. I told him to shut up, and not talk to me in this manner.
He said, “If we weren’t such close friends, I would come there and make you moan-but I don’t think you know how to moan…come on, react to me. Talk dirty to me. I want to see you react.â€
Then, all of a sudden-he paused, and asked, “Why is the light in your room still on?†I bolted upright in my chair, and swore at this-realizing he had walked to my house, and was staring up at my room window. (He’d obviously memorized the location of my home, as he had dropped me off at my house after our interview years ago.)
He said, “Don’t worry-I’ll be gone by the time you get to the window.†I told him he was bluffing, and that I called his bluff. He responded, fine, he was walking back to my house.
“What are you going to do when you get here?†I said incredulously.
“I’m going to come up to your room.â€
I laughed at this, and said, “Go ahead, you can meet my brother, too, while you’re at it-he’s home.†At this point, I told him to call it a night, and finally, ended the conversation. He asked how it was going to be-should he call me, or was I going to call him in the future? I told him it wasn’t a good idea, either way.
The night of May 24th, 2007, he contacted me online, and said I had “never called him.†I told him he had to leave me alone starting right then, and I didn't want to talk to him. He said, “Okay fine.â€
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