How to Feel Like a Creepy Stalker

I know of at least one friend who will not be happy to learn that I allowed someone into my home whose last name I didn't know, especially after she asked me if I'd run background checks on these guys from Match and I told her, "Oh, yes, of course."  Not.  And now, as we know, I've allowed him not only into my home, but into my bed, still without knowing his last name.  Last night, during one of our conversations, I even made a reference to that, that here he was in my bed and I didn't know his last name.

Once again, I remind myself that men don't usually pick up on subtle hints.

However, we have this fantastic thing called the internet.  Armed with his first name and knowing he's a content provider for the website of a major KC sports team, I plugged those words into Google.  The second thing that popped up was his most recent blog, complete with his last name there in the author's byline.

Success!

But of course, that wasn't quite enough for me.  I had to cross into possibly creepy stalker-ville.  No, I didn't go to any of the public record sites to see if he's been arrested or has a restraining order out on him.  I did what any socially active woman would do: I went to Facebook and plugged his name in.

Fortunately, his last name is quite unique, so I didn't have to sort through a dozen people with the same name trying to figure out which one he was.  One click, and I was taken to his profile.  Unsurprisingly, there's not a lot of information available to people who aren't his friend.  What did surprise me - and yet it didn't - is that he has only 70 friends, many of whom are related to him.  (He's the youngest of 7 kids.)

In contrast, I have (at the moment) 976 friends.

Is this because he's shy?  He's from a small town, so I'm not terribly surprised that he doesn't have a ton of friends from high school, and he went to a good but fairly small college.  It's also possible that he isn't someone who lives on Facebook like I do.

I refer to him being shy and socially awkward, but I also have to remember that he made the first move to contact, and he was quite aggressive about it.  He IM'ed me.  No winking, no emails, he went straight for the direct chatting.  From there, he went for the phone call, and then to setting up a meeting pretty much as soon as possible.  It was only an hour after the first date that he was looking to set up a second one.  And last night...

In further reflection, last night's adult action was really like a romantic comedy.  You know, it was one of those scenes where two people are being polite, although they are of course interested in each other.  Then, with little warning, an almost frantic make-out session launches.  No casual yet flirtatious touching, no sideways glances with deeper meaning, just suddenly: action!  Even I laugh at the thought, and also at the still-fresh memory.  It was like being a teenager, except knowing what to do.

But, I'm digressing.  I feel a little creepy, having cyber-stalked him to an extent.  I'm not worried about my safety with him.  Yes, I know there are legions of women who have said that and then found themselves filing police reports for assault, rape... or who never got to file the reports themselves and instead became real-life CSI stories.  Call me silly or whatever, but I trust him, and this isn't my hormones talking.

Here's the truth at the moment -- which may change over time.  Am I twitterpated?  I don't think so.  Maybe.  I definitely find him attractive, and he's an intriguing enigma, a mystery, one that for whatever reason finds me quite desirable.  So far, though, I'm not finding myself yearning for him at most every moment like I was with P.  Then again, perhaps this is a reflection of my experience with P, part of the learning curve of dating and relationships.

I do know I want to see him again, and when I asked him if I would before he left last night, he said, "of course."  So, I'm just going to enjoy the ride.  (*wink, wink*)