2004-09-28 - 8:27 p.m.
Stalked in a synagogue?
I’m back in New York again, after going home for Yom Kippur. I had also gone home for Rosh Hashanah but I came here in between, and now… I’m back. And I have a lot to deal with.
I did not get a job that I had three interviews for. I was EXTREMELY bummed. Since then, I’ve applied for more stuff, gotten in touch with contacts, and I have an appointment with a temping agency on Friday. I’ll pick myself up again, it’s just going to take time. I also have to find a place to live after October, because I told my cousin I’d be out of here after October. Bah. I have an appointment with one guy tomorrow, and I’m trying to set up another one, and… we’ll see. Mom and I discussed it, and it’s not a good idea for me to go home. I’ll have no job AND no social life, so we both think I need to stick it out here a while longer. Which is fine with me.
I’m also waiting to hear from a guy. I went out with a guy from JDate about three weeks ago, and I had a REALLY good time. I mean, unexpectedly good. We talked for ages. Then when I went to leave, he went in for a hug and probably a kiss, I gave him the cheek… Just an awesome date and a nice guy. BUT. No second date yet. The holidays, then he went to Vegas… And I’ve fucked it all up by emailing him too much. Grr. He’s never going to call. And I’m back at square one. Which is a shame, because this guy seemed so great.
But anyway.
Something happened this year on the holidays that disturbed me. The usual holiday stuff went on—lots of food, seeing everyone, talking about who wore pants and who looked horrible—but something else happened too. Sort of. You see, about five years ago, when I was working at a bookstore, I had a flirtation with this guy. I was 21, he was… who the hell knows how old he was, but I’d guess he was 30 or so. We went out once. Nothing ever happened. He was kind of weird—closed off, secretive, working full time in a bookstore and claiming he was going to law school. I remember one incident very clearly—I mentioned to him that I was catsitting for someone, and I told him her name, and he got all weird. I asked why he got all weird, he wouldn’t say. Turns out he’s her cousin (she told me). Why did he hide this? It was just stupid and bizarre.
So. Anyway. This guy sits several rows in front of us in synagogue. Like, if I didn’t know him from before, I wouldn’t ever see him or notice him. I only see him once a year. The first time I saw him, after I’d gone back to college for my senior year, I guess I smiled or whatever, then he called and demanded to know why I hadn’t called him like I said I would. (Should I have called him? I don’t know. I wasn’t interested, and besides, I was back at school. I figured he would just forget about it when I left anyway.) I was very uncomfortable with that and kind of told him off. Fine, whatever. So I see him in synagogue once a year. I don’t acknowledge him anymore. It’s ancient history to me.
But this year… I wanted to sock him. I was furious, which I suppose is what he wanted. Attention. You see, this year… at one point on Rosh Hashanah, when my stepfather was out doing something and it was time to stand up and kiss the Torah as it came around, this guy stood in our row. Near me. I was talking to someone several seats away from me when I noticed him, and I stood there, not moving back to my seat. The nerve of him. You can say that he didn’t do it for a reason, and not because of me, but I don’t believe that for a freaking SECOND. There was no reason for him to stand in my row for even those few minutes. Did he want to talk to me? Too bad. What ever happened to, “Hi, excuse me, [Mitzi], I wanted to say hi”? He kept walking by my row at odd intervals during services after that.
Then, during Yom Kippur services, I was sitting at the end of our row, on the aisle. I felt something hit me. When I turned around, I realized it was a prayer shawl, and guess who was putting it on? Yup. He swatted me with his prayer shawl. Did it get my attention? Oh, yes, it sure as shit did. I wanted to kick him, to tell him to grow up and get a life and stop being a fucking moron.
But there was also a kind of fear there. Sure, it’s a lot of overreacting, but I just had visions of this guy following me, or calling my parents, or figuring out that I live in New York now and calling me. These things are all impossible, since we’ve moved, and I only use a cell phone, and my parents have a different last name than I do. But still. It was disturbing.
I don’t know what my point is, or if I even have one. I’m just a bit freaked out. Stupid putz. At least I only have to deal with it once a year.
