Thursday 10 June 2010

You can follow me on Twitter but not around London

    It doesn't always pay to be nice.  Fact!  Sometimes people (especially guys) get the wrong idea and interpret a friendly smile as a devilish flirt and immediately you find yourself tangled in a 1-way relationship.  1-way in the sense that they seem to think they're in a relationship, whilst you're completely oblivious to this fact.  

    Last July I put on my wellies and made my way to a local festival.  The weather was horrid - rain kept persisting with no view to clear at all.  
    My friends and I trailed from tent to tent to see which bands were playing and took shelter in the tent where a local rock band were trying to entertain the crowd.  We stood at the back, nodding our heads occasionally to the music, chatting to each other and sticking our heads out of the tent to see if the rain had cleared a little.  (I was more worried about the candy floss I was carrying, rather than my hair). 
    The band decided to take a break and started to mingle with the audience.  A couple of the members came over in our direction and introduced themselves.
    "I hope you liked the music,"  one of them added to my friend, Josie.  My attention was still outside at the pouring rain.  But this avoidance was on purpose.  There's always a reason why guys immediately come and talk to girls - and I wasn't interested.
    "Yes, we really enjoyed it," she smiled.  
    Even with my back turned I could just tell she was twiddling her hair.  It's one of those Josie trademark moves, along with skipping a little after a bit of running, or mixing ketchup with her spaghetti.
    There was a long pause, then Josie said, "Oh, this is Ella...I'm not too sure what she's doing," and she prodded me on the arm.  I guess that was my queue to turn around.  
    "Hi," I beamed a smile.  "Loved the music."  
    "Well, I'm really glad," the taller one said.  "There's an after-party in town later on if you want to join us,"
    Josie looked at me, "I suppose we could," her eyes scanned mine for an answer. 
    "We're not too sure yet," I inputed.  "Our friend's band is due to perform quite late, so we might be here for a while," 
    "Well, I really hope you make it," the tall guy said, his blue eyes burning into mine.
    When the rain finally decided to calm down, we escaped the tent and embraced the rest of the festival.  The encounter with the two band members had completely escaped my mind and I went back home that evening falling sound asleep.  

    My BlackBerry decided to wake me angrily the next morning, deciding to go off every 10 seconds.  
    Weird amount of emails to receive on a Saturday, I thought as I picked it up.  
    I scrolled quickly through them - all of which were Twitter related.  The weird thing was that they were all from 1 person.  It turned out that one of the band guys had sought me out.  I didn't even give him my name - how on earth had he found me?  
    The first message just said a brief "Hi".  The second asked whether I was the girl he had met at the festival, and the third stated that it was nice to meet me.  It didn't just end there though.  Another message asked me what I was up to, and others very kindly informed me what he was up to that day.
    Weird!
    I ignored them all.  I was due to go on holiday in a couple of days time for a month so I'd be out of touch for a while anyway.  He'd surely forget about me.
    ...But a month later and the first thing I was greeted to when I logged on Twitter was further messages from him. 12 of them to be exact.  
    I sit down on the sofa, ignorning Jeremy Kyle's rants from the TV and ponder whether or not to reply.  Surely a brief message back indicating that I'm not interested will make him leave me alone.  So cautiously, I begin typing.
    Ok, this was a bad idea.  His 'friendly' messages soon turned into, "You're so beautiful.  We should go on a date".  
    Dear oh dear!!  
    I somehow managed to avoid him and his messages (and the fact that he got my phone number without me giving it) until November, when I stupidly informed Twitter that I would be in the make-up department of Selfridges buying lipsticks.  
    I'm casually minding my own business in the Chanel section, when I suddenly feel someone's hand on my shoulder.  I turn around and almost scream at the shock.  
    It's him!  He's here!!
    "Hello..." I say awkwardly.  His face turns into a huge grin. 
    "Hi,"
    "Well, this is really bizarre," I say to him casually edging away.  I knock over a perfume tester and apologise profusely at the make-up assistant.  She nods to say it's fine, but I can tell that beneath her six inches of foundation she is scowling at me.
    "I suppose it is, yes," he says still smiling at me.  
    I'm rather confused and am unsure of what to do.  All I know is that I don't want to be here.  With him.  
    "Well, I better get home," I tell him and start to walk away.  I hear his footsteps trail behind me.
    "Maybe we can go for a drink.  You're a hard girl to pin down," he says, that freakishly benign smile still plastered on his face.  
    I want to scream at him and say I've been hard to pin down because I've been avoiding you like the plague!!  But I hold my tongue.
    "Look, I really have to go," I smile politely and start my way again.  
    But he's persistent.  Like a shadow he's now following me out of the store.  "I'll give you a call later," he says.  
    I'm pretty sure I started running at this point.  

    As soon as I was back at home, my phone alerts me of a new text.  Surprise, surprise, it's from him!  
    -"It was really good to see you" - it states and I cringe at the thought of it.  
    I immediately sent a text back:
    "I'm not really looking to date anyone" - I write and almost feel myself calm down as soon as it's sent.  It's not like he can argue with that.  
    But apparently he can.
    "We've been getting on so well.  I really think we should go on a date."  His text sends a shiver down my spine.  Just leave me alone.  How on earth did you worm your way into my life?
   Angrily, I punch in the buttons to form a text:  "I'm really not interested" - Surely he would get the message with that.  
    A few seconds later, my phone buzzes.
    "I can't believe you've just dumped me like that.  I don't want to waste my time with someone who makes it her life mission to treat men like this"
    I'm in shock.  Dumped??  I've seen him twice - collectively a total of 6 minutes.  And considering I've barely replied to his obsessive messages, I really don't see how I was leading him on.  
    But I decide to look on the bright side.  At least now he's a problem of the past and I won't be hassled any longer.  So I don't reply and get on with my day.  In the evening, however, I get another text from him.  
    "I don't like it when we argue.  Let's make up" it reads. 
    WHAT???  I want to reply with an incredibly rude message, but I stop myself.  Clearly, he's doesn't have the right frame of mind when calm, let alone when angry.  I don't particularly want to cause more problems for myself.
    So I ignore it.
    But the texts keep on coming.  
    He's saying that he really likes me, and that we're so good together.  The next text asks if I'm free to see him for a drink.  The next one informs me that he's getting ready to go out with his friends and that I should join them.  One by one they invade my phone, but I refrain and ignore them all. 
    4 months later the texts stopped.
    Who knew technology would be so inconvenient.  

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