Sunday, October 14, 2007
by Ospite. 
I feel a bit bad for not keeping up my writing end of the deal. Basically the Trattoria has been on the slow side and uneventful, or so busy and insane that I have zero desire to recall the events. But this story I was sure you'd be interested in, despite the fact it has nothing to do with the restaurant biz.
I was doing my faithful evening of practicing tonight and came near the end when I received a phone call from my friend Gracie here in town. She recently swapped apartments and I had yet to see the new place, so I stopped by somewhat on the later side.
We were sitting in her living room, enjoying a nice cigar. She started talking about the fact that her stalker had returned.
Backstory:
When she lived in her basement apartment, a gentleman in his late 50s knocked on her door one day. He looked a little cracked out and asked for food. About 5'10" and dressed with clothes that hadn't left his back since the 80s, his thin frame appeared fragile. Gracie is quite the generous person so she got some bumblebee tuna and carrots. He then followed it up with asking for money. She was wise enough there to deny him cash and shut the door. His apartment was across the hall from hers. When she would come home, she could tell he was peaking at her with his door cracked open just a hair. She was always a little too afraid to look directly at him while he did this.
As time passed she heard him attempt opening her door late at night or tapping on her door or pacing back and forth in front of it. When she would leave for class in the morning, a small scattering of cigarette butts would be strewn about the hall immediately before her door. Meanwhile, as things got creapier and he wouldn't leave her alone, she went to the landlord who gave him a warning: Stop, or eviction will ensue.
A few weeks passed with no confrontations or bizarre scenarios until one morning she woke up to find a sample digital photo menu sheet shoved under her door. If you get digital photos printed, they give you a table of contents page as an overview of each image. This particualr sheet was composed entirely of images of his penis. Reasonably disturbed, she took this to the landlord who promptly evicted the strange man. Before he left he stood outside her door screaming profanity and uttering words of future harm.
Some time passed before he returned to hassle her again. This one came with still more threats. It was at this time that police interaction seemed to have no effect, so a friend of hers paid him a visit when he arrived outside her window. It was more than a month before she saw him again.
She moved apartments from the basement to upstairs in the front. Quite the upgrade. Gracie was hoping to dodge the delusional with the move. It was a failure. He showed up ranting and raving and being lewd. He had arrived in a cab specifically to let her know he was planning on cutting off her fingers and toes followed by a hit to the temple with a hammer. She showed me this screaming session. Thank God for videos on cell phones.
So she caught me up on the info and at the perfectly flawless moment in the conversation, he arrived outside the building in a cab, came up to the window, looked in, saw me, and said, "Ummm...."
I was doing my faithful evening of practicing tonight and came near the end when I received a phone call from my friend Gracie here in town. She recently swapped apartments and I had yet to see the new place, so I stopped by somewhat on the later side.
We were sitting in her living room, enjoying a nice cigar. She started talking about the fact that her stalker had returned.
Backstory:
When she lived in her basement apartment, a gentleman in his late 50s knocked on her door one day. He looked a little cracked out and asked for food. About 5'10" and dressed with clothes that hadn't left his back since the 80s, his thin frame appeared fragile. Gracie is quite the generous person so she got some bumblebee tuna and carrots. He then followed it up with asking for money. She was wise enough there to deny him cash and shut the door. His apartment was across the hall from hers. When she would come home, she could tell he was peaking at her with his door cracked open just a hair. She was always a little too afraid to look directly at him while he did this.
As time passed she heard him attempt opening her door late at night or tapping on her door or pacing back and forth in front of it. When she would leave for class in the morning, a small scattering of cigarette butts would be strewn about the hall immediately before her door. Meanwhile, as things got creapier and he wouldn't leave her alone, she went to the landlord who gave him a warning: Stop, or eviction will ensue.
A few weeks passed with no confrontations or bizarre scenarios until one morning she woke up to find a sample digital photo menu sheet shoved under her door. If you get digital photos printed, they give you a table of contents page as an overview of each image. This particualr sheet was composed entirely of images of his penis. Reasonably disturbed, she took this to the landlord who promptly evicted the strange man. Before he left he stood outside her door screaming profanity and uttering words of future harm.
Some time passed before he returned to hassle her again. This one came with still more threats. It was at this time that police interaction seemed to have no effect, so a friend of hers paid him a visit when he arrived outside her window. It was more than a month before she saw him again.
She moved apartments from the basement to upstairs in the front. Quite the upgrade. Gracie was hoping to dodge the delusional with the move. It was a failure. He showed up ranting and raving and being lewd. He had arrived in a cab specifically to let her know he was planning on cutting off her fingers and toes followed by a hit to the temple with a hammer. She showed me this screaming session. Thank God for videos on cell phones.
So she caught me up on the info and at the perfectly flawless moment in the conversation, he arrived outside the building in a cab, came up to the window, looked in, saw me, and said, "Ummm...."
7 Comments:
hell no u just cant stop dere. continue
You have to be kidding me!!! I need the ending!!!
finish please
OMG i hope you have a camera,
for the court case. and i'm not
kidding.
cathleen
That is just bizarre.
I tell you what's bizarre not telling us what kind of cigar it was.....
But tremendous story all the same, now make with the rest of it....
i think most of us that come here would love to read anything you write, regardless of whether or not it has to do with the trattoria. i think this gem proves that. looking forward to part II!
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