  urlLink My Stalkee?  Could be. nbsp;  urlLink He needs to stop coming here,  he makes my heart go all fluttery when he just keeps following me with his eyes. nbsp; nbsp;
 Mostly I just like the attention,  but I also like to pretend that he is just this certain type of person,  when it is very obvious he is not.  No I shouldn't say very obvious,  becuase if it were that blatant I wouldn't have all of these sordid ideas in my head.  He waits for me to say hi to him because he knows that I have to,  I'm occupationaly bound to say hello.
nbsp;
 And he knows that I know his name and either he gets kicks out of this or he is just as shy and reserved as I can be.
nbsp;
 He showed me a few of his tattoos one day but seemed inconvenienced by my questions.
nbsp;
 When he is in my cube he's rather reserved and guarded,  he snidely remarks about school and moving to New Orleans.
 He's a bit haughty,  but that just makes him all the more challenging.  And if there is nothing I like more about a boy it's that he's damn near impossible to snag.
nbsp;
 But there will be no snagging for me.
nbsp;
 Not even a vain attempt at asserting myself into his life.
nbsp;
 I'm just gonna watch him walk in and out that revolving door and simply admire the slightly homosexual white sweater he's wearing.
nbsp;
 Some days he borders on a gay bike messenger and a savvy thrift store shopper.
nbsp;
 What's even more fun is that he looks a lot like Thom Yorke.
nbsp;
 He's just so strange it intrigues me.
nbsp;
 He follows me around the lobby,  his head always facing my direction even when he is conducting business in the opposite,  but he's always hanging in my peripheral vision.  He never quite focuses on me so it's not exactly like staring.
nbsp;
 He is just such a weirdo.
nbsp;
 He won't come and talk to me,  it's obvious he likes me,
 so instead he just stares at our receptionist desk if I am making copies.
nbsp;
 I guess it's all for the better though.  I don't need no damn temptation,  especially with all of these crazy hormones wreaking havoc on my feminine judgments.
nbsp;
 Damn hormones 
