The World According to Pete

The following is a reprint. I had planned on writing a sugary recounting of my Valentine's Day date but, three days before V.D., the woman whom I thought I was dating informed me that we had, in fact, not been dating -- we were just "getting to know each other." You say po-TAY-to, I say po-TAH-to as the saying goes. Mostly we got to "know each other" by getting naked but, since this is a family weblog, I'll spare you the sticky details.

In the "the more things change, the more they stay the same" department, here's a reprinted tale from last Valentine's...

[ Looking For Love ...or... SWM Seeks SWF Stalker ]

Once again, Valentine's Day came and went, and I was without a date. In the future, instead of asking out somebody whom I barely know, or having friends set me up on a blind date - either of which could lead to what all men fear most, that is, rejection - I've come up with a highly convoluted scheme that, by its very convoluted nature, is sure to work.

According to statistics, an estimated 200,000 Americans are stalked each year. So I ask myself, "Why aren't I one of them?"

Is it me? Am I not worthy of being obsessively followed? Is it something I've said or done? Or not done? Why? Why? Why?

I mean, even David Hasselhoff - star of TV's "Knight Rider" and "Baywatch" not to mention being a 'pop star' in Germany, and only Germany, for God's sake - has had his own stalker. Am I really that much worse than Hasselhoff?

At first I thought maybe it was because I hadn't starred in any crappy TV shows, or the fact I can't sing in the language of love, which, as that damn Hasselhoff has proven, is, in fact, German and not French. Who would've guessed?

But then I realized that Hasselhoff does have an edge, that being that he fills a niche.

So, it's simply a matter of me finding my own 'market niche'.

I can certainly understand that, so I've prepared a little personal ad and questionnaire to help potential candidates applying for my 'stalker' position:

SWM seeks SWF Stalker. Must be resourceful and crafty with a melancholy disposition. Loner type preferred. Ability to follow a person undetected a plus. Desire NOT to kill or maim the person you are stalking a *must*.

If you're with me thus far, and think this might be you, I'm here to tell you it is. Yes, I am saying this directly to you. I'm kind of like NBC's Tom Brokaw. You know, the guy who talks to you directly every evening while supposedly just reporting the news to everybody else? I know the "secret code" too. I know you understand.

Now, to separate the wheat from the chaff, I've prepared a little questionnaire. Please return it, via email, along with a photo of yourself. Clothing is optional.

1. Do you have any stalking experience? If so, who was it and do you know where he is now? If you don't know his present whereabouts, then you're not much of a stalker, now are you? So stop wasting my time and yours.

2. Of these two gifts, which would you prefer to give me: A heart-shaped box filled with chocolates, or a pig's heart stuffed in a cardboard box? If it's the latter, you just might be the girl for me!

3. If we were to have a banal, not to mention boring, conversation about the weather, would you know "in your heart" it was, in fact, a declaration of my love for you? On a related note, do you put special significance on intercepted glances and chance meetings?

4. If you were my stalker, and you found out I was dating another woman, would you: A. Kill me, B. Kill Yourself, or C. Kill us both in a bizarre murder/suicide pact done in such a way so that the "other woman" would be the one to find our bodies.

5. If you were to declare your love for me, and I replied, "Fuck off!", would you take that as: A. a sign that I wanted nothing to do with you whatsoever, or, B. a sign of our developing intimacy because, after all, fucking is part of any healthy and loving relationship.

6. Do you own any firearms? Hunting knives? Other weapons that could be used to fatally injure me? (Hint: the correct answer here is an honest "no".)

7. Do you prefer "primitive" art or postmodern art? (Please note, this question is for psychological evaluation not about art appreciation. So, choose carefully.)

8. If we got into an argument in public, would you: A. Make a big scene, up to and possibly including the point where you got arrested for creating a public disturbance, or, B. Shut down emotionally and wait until we were alone, at which time you'd just beat the living crap out of me? Please remember, I have an aversion to pain and, sometimes, "big scenes" in public can be entertaining for both the participants and unwitting bystanders alike. Now you may answer this question.

9. Are you willing to relocate to Phoenix? Are you willing to do this without telling me, but just start showing up at my work and places I hang out to give me that penetrating stare? Would you then be willing to leave multiple messages on my answering machine, each more crazed and less coherent than the last, until I finally asked you out? Once we went out on a date, would you promise... No, wait, I think I already mentioned the "not killing me" part.

Once all the applications have been spindled, folded and mutilated, I'll make my decision. Just remember, don't delay in sending it as the following rule might apply: First Come, First to Stalk.

"Once Pete finds a suitable candidate", you might be asking yourself, "what does he plan to do next?"

Like any so-called "first date", it could end up one of two ways: Hot and heavy, or dead on arrival. The second option is meant figuratively only.

If, indeed, it does turn "hot and heavy", there's only one problem. My place or hers. See, according to stalking etiquette, mine is out. One doesn't want his stalker knowing where he lives at the beginning of the relationship. After all, I don't want her to think I'm "easy". And her place is out because, quite frankly, I'd have to go there not knowing where the objects, both sharp and blunt, are hidden. So you can see my dilemma.

Now, in an ideal world, after a while her obsession would turn into love. A sick, twisted kind of love perhaps, but then who among us can claim to have anything close to a perfect relationship anyway? Then, I'd have to marry the lady and make an honest stalker out of her. At least in this sort of relationship, I wouldn't have to worry where she was, whom she was with, and what she was doing, when I'm not home - because she'd always be a few feet behind me, following. Or at least fifty feet behind me, if a restraining order becomes necessary.

You might see my extreme attempt to find a date in this manner as nothing more than crazy desperation, but I assure you - in the immortal words of Robert Bardo - "I am not a nut."

Perhaps Bardo wasn't the best person to quote there, what with his stalking and killing actress Rebecca Schaeffer, but, really, it's the sentiment that counts, right?

Yes, I am not a nut, just a sentimental fool for love.