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Target:  The JFK Jr. look-alike who lives in the apartment across from our patio door.

Background Information:  He lives in a 2-BR apartment that is a flipped mirror-image of ours.  The smaller bedroom he converted into a study/office/den.  Blinds are usually closed to the larger bedroom (dammit).  The apartment is actually pretty decently decorated, for a bachelor pad.  He drives a 90's model, white Nissan Sentra.

Background Story:  One lovely July night, my roommate and I were out on the patio, talking.  We noticed this guy in the smaller bedroom of his apartment working on his laptop.  Darkly good looks.  Nicely lean, tan, and firm (from what we could tell) body.  Cute.  Very cute.  So we start speculating on whether he was single.  Through a fairly simple process of feminine intuition (only bachelors have futons in their living room, but we must admit that the two placemats on the dining table threw us off the trail for a while... sneaky fox), we concluded that he was.  All right.  Fair game.

Thus began The Stalking.

Summary of Events:  My roommate dropped out early, since she was working through those dastardly "ex-boyfriend" issues, and then soon picked up a new boyfriend at the local WalMart.  I missed the annual sale and, left single for a while, was free to pursue the Stalking.

* Discovery! * After a few months, our target noticed that I--er, we -- left the blinds conveniently open a lot.  One lovely December afternoon, I was watering the plants on the balcony (innocently, I swear to God, I wasn't even thinking of the target at the time).  I came back out after getting more water... and realized that the blinds to his study were closed.  They were open only moments before.

* Hurrhh?? *  I was walking past the target's building on the way home from school.  Just as I reach the halfway point between our two buildings, I hear a door open in the building behind me.  I turned automatically to see the target emerge from his apartment and peer at, well, what seemed to be... me.

Diary:

- February 2000:  Dude.  I think the guy got roommates.  I keep seeing the same gray Honda Civic and the same girl/guy at the apartment.  How weird.

- February 13, 2000: Okay, yeah the dude's got roommates -- a guy and a girl, a couple I assume (since they're sharing the bigger bedroom). And this gray cat keeps appearing around... I guess Dan saw the cat first, and let the cat into our apartment, so then the cat kept coming back... Lesley totally loves this cat (it's striped like a tabby, but totally in grays... actually has very cool coloring), and wants to kidnap it.

Anyways, so late at night, around 3am, I see the cat padding across our patio.  I open the door, pick up the cat... and our neighbor calls across the balconies "Hey, you're stealing our cat."  He was standing on *his* patio, trying to get the cat to come back to him, when I opened our door and swooped the cat into my arms.

Omigod I nearly died from embarrassment. ;P  The next few minutes didn't exactly redeem me, either.

I yelled back, "Oh, this is your cat?"  Duh, would he tell me I was stealing their cat if it wasn't?

"Yeah."

"Did you want him back?"  Soon as I said it, I knew I  was a retard.  Uhhh... Duh?  *mental smack to self*

He sounded like he was laughing as he answered, "Yeah!"

I suddenly realized my roommates, plus Lesley's boyfriend Chris, were all asleep, and I was yelling right outside everyone's windows.  "Uhhh... hold on a sec," I mumbled.  I dumped the cat on the sofa and picked up my PJ bottoms -- was only wearing an oversized T-shirt at the time -- and the cat ran out the patio door, which I forgot to close.

I spent the next three minutes hopping into my PJ bottoms and chasing that damn cat around the living room and patio. And then the bastich cat had the balls (which was admirable, since I think he's neutered) to purr when I finally cornered and caught him.

So that was my first conversation with our neighbor that I'm still semi-stalking. Could've done better. Much better. But at least I wan't the one hacking up hairballs in his face either.

April 5, 2000 - Ending:  Well, I've sorta lost interest. The guy gave us our cat because Lesley loved it so much, and he hated it and wanted to get rid of it, so now we have a permanent gray furball added to our household who likes to play chicken with incoming cars.

Besides which, the past few days, the guy's been cleaning his sock drawer -- now correct me if I'm wrong, but guys don't dump their drawers out on their bed unless they're about to move.

So, it's been fun. But so long, dude.

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