I have so many stories of creepy dudes who follow me, I swear it’s like I have a sign on my forehead that says “Stalk me”.
The first guy I met while I was volunteering in the office at a nursing home so I could get my volunteer hours for my Catholic confirmation. This was back in 2003, so I was 13. Let me preface this by saying I’m a tiny female. I always have been. At that time I was around 4’11, and I weighed about 110 lbs.
So one day I was at the nursing home, working in the office- organizing mail, faxing papers, copying, you know, the normal stuff. My volunteer coordinator asked me to go drop off the mail to the residents in their room, so I do. I start off at the 2nd floor and work my way up from there. It was fairly uneventful until I get to the 5th floor. Here is where it starts to get weird.
I go to drop off the mail to the one man by the name of Rob. He was a paraplegic, kinda like Stephen Hawkings, but he could move his head and speak normally. He couldn’t do anything else on his own besides that and move his right hand to move his electric wheelchair around. I knock on the door, he tells me to come in, so I do and I place his mail on the closest table. I then go to turn around to leave, and he’s right in front of me. I stop and kinda freeze.
I really don’t like talking to strangers and the vibes I was getting just from being in the room creeped me out. I try to politely ask him to move, but he refuses. Instead he tells me that he needs me to help him get into bed. I look at the bed, and notice a whole wall full of posters of half naked women. I definitely wasn’t comfortable in that room after that. I tell him that I’m just a volunteer, and I’m not allowed to touch the clients, but I’ll definitely get a nurse to help him get into bed. He refuses and is adamant that I have to help him.
At this point, I am thoroughly creeped out, and I hated that he was leering at me, so I politely noped the fuck out of there. I fast walk to the stairwell and run down the stairs, not even bothering to worry about dropping the rest of the mail off. I get to the office, and I’m telling my volunteer coordinator what happened, and who do I see? Rob coming around the corner. Now at this point, it’s time for me to go home, so I have her sign my time card, and I run to the nearest bus stop. Just as the bus was pulling up, Rob comes trucking along in his wheelchair. I jump on the bus, pay my fare and watch as he stops and stares at me as we drive past.
About a week later, I go back, and this time my coordinator asks me to help out with the activities. No problem, I like talking to most of the clients there, and the nurse that was in charge was awesome. It was my favorite thing to do and I was seriously considering becoming an activity coordinator for the nursing home once I got old enough to do it. I was planning on staying in my position well after I got my needed hours. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Well halfway through bingo, Rob comes rolling up. I see him, and politely smile. You know the smile- tight lipped, doesn’t reach your eyes, very standoffish- that one. He doesn’t seem to get the hint and instead parks right next to me. He talks my ear off, the entire time staring at my (lack of) chest. Eventually it’s time for me to leave, so I get up, grab my bookbag and walk out. It’s fairly dark at this point, night comes early in the late fall/early winter in the northern us. Rob follows me out, but thankfully the bus is there, so I just hop on and make my way home.
He ends up doing the same thing for the rest of the time I volunteered there. When I mentioned it to my mother, she laughed it off and said that he was harmless. I fully believe that if he wasn’t a paraplegic, he would’ve been a serial rapist/killer.
A year after I left the nursing home, I’m visiting my mother at work. She worked in a parking garage her brother owned located a couple blocks away from the nursing home. We go out to eat at a local Cuban chicken restaurant, all seems normal. I look out the window, and who do I see? Rob, sitting right in front of the window, staring at me. My mom laughs and tells me to go say hi. I refuse, and she keeps pressing it. I still refuse. My dad notices how uncomfortable he’s making me, so he tells my mom to drop it and don’t force me to talk to some man I clearly don’t like. I seriously jumped out of my chair and hugged my dad.
Rob was still sitting there, staring at me, so my dad got up and went to go talk to him. I still don’t know what he said, but Rob hightailed it out of there, and never tried to talk to me again. I saw him a few more times, but he always turned around and stayed away. He’s definitely dead now, and that brings me the greatest relief.