Charles: Mall Stalker

You probably know him.

If you are young, Brown, female,live in the Raleigh area and have been anywhere near a mall within the last year, you know him. Let's call him "Charles", because, well...because that's his name!!!

Soooo...about a year ago, just when Jordann began her "I'm going to introduce myself to everyone in the solar system" phase, we stop at the light at the intersection of Brier Creek Pkwy and Hwy 70. It's a particularly long light. We are the first car in the far left of the two left turn lanes. In the turn lane next to us, to the right, up pulls "Charles"...the most handsome young fellow I had seen in a very long time. I love his white Land Rover with the obviously upgraded wheel package. I am impressed. Although it was frigid outside, I was delighted to roll down my passenger window at his request.

We chat. It IS, after all, the longest light in the western hemisphere. Jordann rolls down her back window, and after introducing herself, asks, "Do you like my Mom?"

Apparently, he did. And just before the light turned green, I shouted my number through the passenger window. He put it in his phone.

About 30 minutes later, he calls me. Jordann and I are, where else?? The mall! Just so happens that "Charles" is in the same mall. (Curious, no? That's what I thought too.) We are eating in California Pizza Kitchen and he asks if he can join us. Well, the world is a free place, I thought...and he is cute...and his Land Rover does have the upgraded wheel package...so sure, why not.

We are about 7 minutes into our go-nowhere conversation when his phone rings. He excuses himself to take the call...and comes back 30 seconds later with this: "I HAVE TO GO, MY WIFE AND SON ARE IN THIS SAME MALL."

YOUR WHAT??? I was so disgusted.

"Look...go take care of your business." Instantly he became less good looking...not because he was married, but because he is an obviously deceitful-lying-jackass of a cheater.

He goes. We eat. We shop. Then...my phone rings.

"Heeeeyyyyy, sorry about that earlier. When can we get back together? You still in the mall?"

I throw up in my throat a little. He can't be serious!

"Uhm, are you kidding me? You have a wife? And a child? And you want to know when we can get 'together'?"

"It's not like that..."

Well, it didn't matter what it was "like", because he is abviously an anus. I am dreadfully opposed to being offensive in any situation, so I said nicely, "Really, you don't need to call me any more. Good luck with your situation."

And the next day he sens me this test message: "I don't know where you get off judging me. You didn't have to be such a bitch. Can I call you?"

Mmmmmm...well, Mr. Charming, as if you didn't have me at 'hello', that text sure makes me wanna commit adultery with you! Nothing like a cheating jackass to put me in a talkin' on the phone kinda mood!

As you would imagine, I didn't respond.

A few months later, I run into him in the mall again. He approaches me as if we were old friends, reunited just outside The Gap. I realize that he recognizes me, but can't remember the interaction. I am in a good mood, I'll play along...

"Remind me where we have met," he says.

"Remember. We were in CPK, when your WIFE called, and you had to run??? Then you sent me a delightful text apology the next day?"

"Oh yeah!! How've you been?"

Again...you are kidding right. You can't be serious. You are not embarrassed? WOW! "I'm good, but I have GOT to run."

"I think I lost your number. Can you give it to me again?"

SERIOUSLY, DUDE??? I start walking. "No. C'mon. You are a jackass. Why would I want you to have my number...again???"

He is talking as I walk away...obviously attempting to convince me that I have misinterpreted the situation. I am in awe of his boldness.

I have seen him several times in the mall since. At all times of day and night. Sometimes he sees me, sometimes he doesn't. He is always trying to pick up some unsuspecting young thang. When he sees me, he smiles like he has run into an old school chum, explaining that he works in the mall and is on his lunch break...or he is with his "cousin". (But it's ALWAYS a different mall, and he is ALWAYS on a lunch break, ALWAYS with a different "cousin".) Despite my otherwise plesant and respectful demeanor, I take pride in being rude to him. And apparently he has some disorder that prevents him from having a conscience.

I wonder how he supports himself. Maybe he works for Candid Camera...or maybe I was just involved in the down South version of 'Punked'. Wonder when my episode airs...