The Breathless Fantasy...

There's A Fine Line Between Fantasy And Reality... I'm Dancing On That Line

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Location: New York, The Big Apple, United States

My heart guides me, but my mind always finds me..... "I could be in the street, I could be on a train, Or struck in some doorway down, In the pouring rain, Now there is not one place, That doesn't feel like home...."

Monday, January 02, 2006

Stranger...

After checking my messages and my caller ID, it was clear who left my mysterious message. Chuck. Why? That's beyond strange, and borderline scary. I've only been casually seeing this man for what, a week? And now he's leaving cryptic "song messages" on my answering machine, I really don't need this. I debated on what to do. Maybe it was joke? Maybe he was doing this all in light-hearted fun. After all, he knows I love 80's music, and Prince, well, he does top the list. What if it wasn't a joke. What if he's nuts? I can't handle that. After debating and debating, I picked up the phone and called him. He didn't mention calling me, as a matter of fact, he said he had been tied up in court all day long.

Court. That's not possible. The call came from HIS apartment at 3:35pm. It's on my caller ID, there's no denying where the call came from. I was silent. I didn't know what to say. My first thought is, "This man is a complete nutjob, I have to get away from him, and FAST". Running. It's what I do best. He kept asking me what was wrong. I finally broke down and told him to stop lying to me. I knew he wasn't in court, and he called me, leaving a song on my answering machine and it wasn't cute or funny- it's downright creepy.

He acted completely stunned, as if he had NO idea what I was talking about. I played the message for him, asking him again, angrily if he was going to deny doing it. He swore to me he was in court, and could prove it. He told me he was on his way right now with transcripts, proving he had to testify, and assuring me of his whereabouts. I agreed to let him come over tonight. I had to see this proof for myself.

Right on time, 7:00pm sharp, my doorbell rang. It was a disheveled Chuck, holding court transcript papers in his hand. I stood there completely perplexed. How did this happen? Was it a complete fluke? Did the lines get crossed? How did a call come from his apartment when he wasn't there. He lives alone, has no family in the area, NO ONE has a key to his apartment. He assured me he'd never do a thing like that. "For God's sake Chloe', I'm a cop, don't you think I know better than that?", he asked me. I KNOW he SHOULD know better, but in this day in time, you never know who you can or cannot trust.

He has the proof, he was exactly where he said he was, he didn't do it. But who did? Maybe I'm making a big deal over nothing. I'll just let it ride. I just can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Time will tell I suppose.

6 Comments:

Blogger Mike said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:06 PM  
Blogger Mike said...

Ok, Chloe, this is what happens when amateurs ask themselves "What Would Mike Logan do?"

Never, ever give out your real name a phone number until the FOURTH date.
Sheesh!

Now you've gotta go rent six orphans and get them to call this guy "daddy" if you want him to scram.

(and that was me, deleting a typo)

10:07 PM  
Blogger Faye_Hart said...

Sniff....Sniff...anyone smell a nutcase named Nicole?.....Sniff

10:35 PM  
Blogger Sara said...

Sounds like the evil psycho whore is back...Be careful! I live in NYC, so if you ever need someone in a fight against the Austrailian hussie, I'm your girl :)

Hi, by the way. I love your blog!

~Sara

12:12 AM  
Blogger Criminal Minds Fan said...

Be careful honey. You could have a nut job that is stalking you. :(

12:35 AM  
Blogger Y.Y. said...

strange

5:10 AM  

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