I just wrote something difficult... and realised that women can be stalkers too

I wrote a lonnng letter to Peter's aunt. Stuff that she needn't know, but deserves to. She went through the same thing with her husband, after all, so it won't be as if she doesn't understand... she just might not want to. 9o or not, she needs to know, it's her only nephew.

I didn't write them over Christmas... I was still digesting my visit on the 2oth. Hell, I didn't write a lot of people I should have written.

Buuut... the year is ending... and you know what? That's when the ghosts of your past come if you pause and reflect. And I have nothing but time these days... trying NOT to pause and reflect, because it can be painful.

And you think of the past, and the present, and sort of look to what you can do in the future to make what you don't like different.

And as per usual, there are impatient little ASSHOLES who are already shooting off fireworks all over the place. And it isn't even Sylvester, New Year's Eve, which here is named after some saint who met a grisly death... which should surprise no one.

And people come to mind who I haven't talked about, and Bill and Marion are so in my thoughts of late... will come to them later.... but not this post.

Except for one thing... whenever they came over, before they decided... it would be in the night when they were alone, and Bill would turn over and ask Marion, 'How about going for a Krainer on the Hauptplatz?' And then she knew they would be travelling again to see us here.

A Krainer is a spicy sausage you can eat at stands, with mustard and horse radish, if you want it even spicier. A local specialty. Bill was such a romantic... lol.

And it triggered a memory I hadn't thought of in ages. A swishy Swiss guy, who really had it in for me. I was young and half-way attractive... ONCE...

I was on night shifts, and it was a reign of terror, hey, what he did. And he'd go up to retire for the night, so he said, and I'd sit on the sofa to rest my eyes, but then I'd hear him coming down, and quickly got to my desk and running the calculator... and he'd be disappointed, and say, 'Oh, aren't you going to sleep?'

'Uh, no... I'm sort of working, and have the bookkeeping and statistics to do.'

Crestfallen.... 'Oh, that's too bad'.

Uh-huh.

So I had my day off, no bothersome Swiss tse-tse fly, and had to do something downtown, was always, always in a hurry, and hear:

'Yoo-HOO!'

He was at .... Bill and Marion's Wurstelstand. Invited me to come eat with him... ooooooo, a Dinner Date, hey!

I was having MUCH better ones with my late first infatuation Hellmut. Who is also dead now... funny how that works. At least those dates were top-notch, even though he was very messed up in his head. The newest good movie, the best restaurants... he knew about romance, but was very very confused. Like... he had this girlfriend, Gaby, who was elegant and all Hermés... oooo.

And I sort of waved, away from me, and yelled, 'No TIME, sorry!'

So Swiss Guy... went and cried on Peter's shoulder, which we used to laugh about so much. It was early, and we weren't together yet.

And being a total flamer, Swiss guy said 'and then he went, like THIS!' and gave a grand sweeping gesture of pushing away... as in GRAND gestrure of sweeping him away.

He was incensed... He'd invited me to 'dinner', after all.

Errrmmmm... I don't think I would have much enjoyed it.

I think I understand what women feel getting unwanted attention. Got it from the other side as well. Aggressive women hitting on a young man. 'Whaddaya say we go out to the tour bus next door, and make for some 'high-life?' In German, very attractive forty-something lady on a tour.

'Ummmmm errrr... I have to stay in here, I'm responsible for everyone in the house.'

'You know what they say, Dienst ist Dienst and Wurst ist Wurst'. If something is wurst to you, in German, it means it doesn't matter, just do it. And Dienst means duty... figure it out.

And I said, 'No, sorry, I hope you understand.' She was miffed, but dignified... and in her cups.

Or the celebrated Irish authoress Edna who wanted me to come to her hotel room and ply me with a lot of whiskey after having had a very long discussion about Catholicism of the Irish Jesuit brand.. took a lot to weasel out of that one without hurt feelings.

But the worst, the absolute worst... was a janitoress who had the big cinema below to clean, and I had the upstairs one. She had to be Hulk Hogan's lost sister, only really not attractive in any way, and she hit on me more times than I can count. Unlike the others, I had to see her nearly every day. A Valkyrie with an industrial vaccuum cleaner, hey...

One night she said, 'I don't care HOW long it takes... I'm going to HAVE you!'

'FORGET it, why cant'cha?'

The lady in the bus? Might have been a nice experience, if I'd thought I could handle it... no strings, just lust... if I'd had it.

The authoress? No... I was in awe of her.

The janitoress? She scared the bejeebus out of me.

The men?.... it was easier. I knew where they were coming from and could deflect it.

I really doubt that men talk about being stalked by women as a rule, but in my experience, they can be.

It's why I do not like men who think they are god's gift to the world, and act insanely agressive toward women... except women do it too... some of them.

So the Swiss 'yodeling dodel'? Fell into the janitoress category. Dodel means fool, btw.

Invite to dinner at the Hauptplatz, and at the very stand that was the reason for Bill and Marion to come over for a visit?

No, Preciousses... it would have been a desecration of a sacred spot.