The saga continues...

I realized today that I should write more about my work life, because what constitutes "a normal day" for me might not be normal for everyone else.

However, today I don't feel like it. I would rather fill you in on the continuing story of Wretched Tim.

Wretched Tim, tall, Asian, and extraordinarily handsome, attender of the Boring Church, rejector of my Christmas cookies, cyclical disappearer, cyclical reappearer.

He called on my last night at Ann Taylor and left a nondescript idiotic message, "Hey Sarah it's been awhile blah blah blah just thought I'd call you and catch up! blah blah blah give me a call back blah I look forward to hearing from you."

Yeah right.

I snickered as I snapped my phone shut on the voicemail and reported the call to manager (and Tim-hater) Deborah, with the comment, "Well, at least he can't stalk me in the store anymore" -- ever his habit when I don't respond to the phone call or e-mail which comes regularly every two months. So, unless this is The Last Time I hear from him, which I've thought every time he's vanished, I'll hear from him again sometime at the end of August. And then I'll know two months have gone by. And then he'll have something pseudo-suave and generally asinine to say....like the time he showed at the end of January up after six weeks of silence and said grandly, "Happy New Year!" And which point I was strongly tempted to consult a calendar and say, "When is the New Year for you?"

So then Deb called this week to tell me that he did, in fact, stop by to see me at the store...with his mother. (What? Yes. His mother. I've met her once before when she was visiting from California, and couldn't tell whether I had made a wonderful or terrible impression.) Dear sharp Deborah got a lot of glee out of telling him that I don't work there anymore and that she had no idea how to get ahold of me. Apparently he didn't believe her, because when I went to pick up my final paycheck yesterday, one of the new associates informed me that he'd stopped by...again. To hear, "Dude, she doesn't work here anymore."

A rather clumsy stalker and a completely inadequate suitor. It's not like we had anything much to talk about the few times we did hang out, and now I've cut all ties and disappeared myself. And I do intend to stay that way. Singleness doesn't feel like "settling" when contrasted with options like him. The situation long ago moved from hurtful to annoying, and is now becoming vaguely ludicrous.