![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
I've always been proud to admit that I have an Irish heritage...until recently, that is.
There's this guy that works in a department near mine at work, who is also friends with one of the guys in my department (which should have been a huuuuge clue as to this guy's mental state), and he's decided to become my stalker. He and his girlfriend broke up quite a few months ago (she's Irish; whether or not she's from the island or is just of the descent, I don't know), and since she has green blood, he's become obsessed about all things Irish, which includes me. It started out pretty innocently, he proudly showed off the leprechaun tatt he's got, and then told me about another Irish-themed tattoo he's thinking of getting. (Really quick, let me add: the word "celtic" does not exist to this guy. He only knows things as "Irish". I'll elaborate more later...) Well, he kept coming by over the next few days, weeks, etc. to my department, every conversation about something Irish; like, how he "talks Irish (uses Irish words)" when he's angry, allegedly slipping into an accent when angry, too, telling me about even more tattoos he's now considering, that are, yup, you guessed it, Irish! He's brought a catalog over to my store of nothing but Irish stuff for me to look at, even pointing out a few trinkets in it that he was going to buy for his ex, if they hadn't broken up. He came over once to ask me if "the Scottish language is the same as the Irish language." "You mean 'Gaelic'?" I asked, sharing a glance with Shiny, one of my co-workers, who's noticed our little leper-con, too. "No, I mean the Irish language," FruitcakeGuy replies. "Um, that would be Gaelic. It's the same language, just different accents, I believe," I answer, though I'm not actually sure. "Well, I speak Irish when I'm mad, you know." And so on, and so forth.....
When I'm working, or when Shiny is working, he'll stare over at us from his area, watching everything we do, or just wander over to see if we can ring something up for him, or just to stand outside our counter and stare. I shit you not, people.
Yesterday, while I'm on my lunch break (re: don't bug me, I'm trying to re-group in just a half--hour's time) he shows up ON HIS DAY OFF just to show me the print-out of the $70 shillelagh ("shi-lay-lee") he's buying online, just to hang on his wall, because his ex had one, too! If you don't know what one is, and I didn't until I just looked it up a few minutes ago, it's a billy club, basically, with a weighted end. Now, I collect swords, so I understand wanting to collect a pretty weapon, but this is a CLUB, something you BLUDGEON someone with. I know, I'm dramatic, but frankly this freaks me out, okay? Anyhoo, so whilst I'm trying to nonchalantly eat my sandwich and read my book, he starts READING FROM THE PRINTOUT the description of this damn thing! I actually got up and went to speak with my two other co-workers just to get away from him, abandoning my lunch behind me, with the lame excuse that I wasn't sure if we'd recorded our sampling spree earlier in the notebook. Pathetic.
So, now tired with the little Peeping O'Tom, I've told the store's managers, and they've had a chat with him, I believe. Creepily though, after they'd spoken with him, he walks back by my store, I notice out of the corner of my eye since I'm training our new hire, and he seems to be glaring at me.
That's my tale up to now, minus a few other random episodes of him ordering a drink in a fake Irish accent and other blank stares, so stay tuned! I wish I could change the channel....*sigh*
Maybe I should just tell him I'm Japanese? Shiny says I'm Cuban, anyway, just b/c of my hometown...
There's this guy that works in a department near mine at work, who is also friends with one of the guys in my department (which should have been a huuuuge clue as to this guy's mental state), and he's decided to become my stalker. He and his girlfriend broke up quite a few months ago (she's Irish; whether or not she's from the island or is just of the descent, I don't know), and since she has green blood, he's become obsessed about all things Irish, which includes me. It started out pretty innocently, he proudly showed off the leprechaun tatt he's got, and then told me about another Irish-themed tattoo he's thinking of getting. (Really quick, let me add: the word "celtic" does not exist to this guy. He only knows things as "Irish". I'll elaborate more later...) Well, he kept coming by over the next few days, weeks, etc. to my department, every conversation about something Irish; like, how he "talks Irish (uses Irish words)" when he's angry, allegedly slipping into an accent when angry, too, telling me about even more tattoos he's now considering, that are, yup, you guessed it, Irish! He's brought a catalog over to my store of nothing but Irish stuff for me to look at, even pointing out a few trinkets in it that he was going to buy for his ex, if they hadn't broken up. He came over once to ask me if "the Scottish language is the same as the Irish language." "You mean 'Gaelic'?" I asked, sharing a glance with Shiny, one of my co-workers, who's noticed our little leper-con, too. "No, I mean the Irish language," FruitcakeGuy replies. "Um, that would be Gaelic. It's the same language, just different accents, I believe," I answer, though I'm not actually sure. "Well, I speak Irish when I'm mad, you know." And so on, and so forth.....
When I'm working, or when Shiny is working, he'll stare over at us from his area, watching everything we do, or just wander over to see if we can ring something up for him, or just to stand outside our counter and stare. I shit you not, people.
Yesterday, while I'm on my lunch break (re: don't bug me, I'm trying to re-group in just a half--hour's time) he shows up ON HIS DAY OFF just to show me the print-out of the $70 shillelagh ("shi-lay-lee") he's buying online, just to hang on his wall, because his ex had one, too! If you don't know what one is, and I didn't until I just looked it up a few minutes ago, it's a billy club, basically, with a weighted end. Now, I collect swords, so I understand wanting to collect a pretty weapon, but this is a CLUB, something you BLUDGEON someone with. I know, I'm dramatic, but frankly this freaks me out, okay? Anyhoo, so whilst I'm trying to nonchalantly eat my sandwich and read my book, he starts READING FROM THE PRINTOUT the description of this damn thing! I actually got up and went to speak with my two other co-workers just to get away from him, abandoning my lunch behind me, with the lame excuse that I wasn't sure if we'd recorded our sampling spree earlier in the notebook. Pathetic.
So, now tired with the little Peeping O'Tom, I've told the store's managers, and they've had a chat with him, I believe. Creepily though, after they'd spoken with him, he walks back by my store, I notice out of the corner of my eye since I'm training our new hire, and he seems to be glaring at me.
That's my tale up to now, minus a few other random episodes of him ordering a drink in a fake Irish accent and other blank stares, so stay tuned! I wish I could change the channel....*sigh*
Maybe I should just tell him I'm Japanese? Shiny says I'm Cuban, anyway, just b/c of my hometown...
Current Location: under my blankets
Current Mood: 
shocked
shockedCurrent Music: "Girl on the Verge" Sarah Hudson
1 comment | Leave a comment