Chapter 33 Unbalanced and Suicidal: a Tale of Stalking

There was a gal, Her name was Vicky G.  Her mother lived over on Adam's Blvd where it ran by Pennington Hills.  She was a fixture at the DI and most parties, but she was a bit strange.  She was a local girl, not hard to look at but a bit clingy.  I guess she was one of those unfortunates that nobody liked in school, but everyone knew.  The kind of girl that has "Use Me" written on her forehead, and a lot of guys did just that.  She was the proverbial outsider, who was desperate to fit in.

My friend, the one who dated the Brown Bomber became someone on which she became fixated.   He never admitted to asking her out or even having relations with her.  She apparently worked in the same group at Phillips that he did.  She probably delivered mail or worked in the copy center.  As best I can figure,  he may have spoken to her or flirted.  He had boyish good looks and all the girls like him.  But if ever there was a a walking talking Dorian Grey, it was him.  We ran around for years together, In Bartlesville, Houston, Dallas, Florida and even Bangkok Thailand.  He finally moved to Jakarta, and eventually got married.   He has lived over there for damn near twenty years now.  I believe he has two or three sons.  He and I had a falling out and have not spoken since sometime after 9/11 because I was a little out spoken about the Muslims.  that might have hurt his feelings since his wife and father are members of the Nation of Islam.  She also was a beneficiary of a clitorectomy, more the foreskin removal than the whole little bugger, but I cannot be certain, she wasn’t specific when we talked about it in Tampa Bay on a golf trip. 

Just an aside, she hit the gold mine gravy train.  You white girls just do not know how to do it apparently.  He and his girlfriend and now wife, used to fight like cats and dogs.  She ran off on the trip to Tampa Bay and he didn’t give a shit till I reminded him she was here on his sponsorship and if anything happened to her, like she ended up dead in a ditch somewhere, the cops would come looking for him.  Well long story short, they are married with kids.  They live in Singapore, he sends her to Europe periodically with her friends, most likely so he can get rid of her and pursue his lifelong passion for Asian prostitutes.

The other Asian gal I mentioned in an earlier chapter, also hit the gold mine.  The beneficiary of the right draw on the blind date, ended up marrying the guy, traveling from Pakistan to Egypt and finally back to Houston.  First thing old Debbie did was buy a new Jaguar and a new home in an upscale neighborhood in Cinco Ranch west of Houston.  I live not too far from there.

Back to the original plot line…

I was friends with my friend’s Indonesian wife on Facebook for a while and saw her travels but heard not a word from him.  So I am not sure what bug he got up his ass.  Life’s too short to care.  He is and probably will always be an expatriate.  I just wonder if his boys are going to visit the Karma on him that he did on his parents.

Okay back to Vicky G.  I knew her and she knew me by name, but I never hit on her, thankfully.  She never seemed to be around at closing time if I felt like a roll in the hay.  Could be that someone else already had snapped her up.  Whatever the case she never fixated on me, but she did on him for whatever reason.  I have to say that I did look for her on more than one occasion but never found her on those nights.  I dodged a bullet.

She started to stalk my engineer friend,  sending him weird notes at work, calling him at home and the office.  If he was out of town, she called his boss to find out where he was. Even his boss was starting to get pissed.

My buddy finally filed a harassment complaint.  She stopped for a while but ultimately lost her job at Phillips over it.  The final chapter was her confronting the CEO of Phillips Bill Douche or maybe it was the one after him, in the parking lot over by the Phillips Building.  She didn't attack him or anything just confronted him in an attempt to get her job back.  That must have been the last straw for the poor Vicky because she gassed herself that Christmas in her mother's garage by leaving the car running.

 

For years afterwards we would send my buddy a Christmas card signed Vicky, as if she was still watching over him.  Kind of a sad last tribute to a sweet but troubled girl.

A side story to this involved a former hunting buddy of mine.  He still works for Phillips unless he retired.  He was last working in the Environmental Division.  He is the one who married the China Doll that worked in Production Research.  Anyway, he was just beginning to date the China Doll.  She, being a good southern Baptist was not giving away the milk for free until the cow was bought and paid for.  He came to me one day lamenting how horny he was and that he just could not convince her to let loose the old Abe penny she kept between her knees.  He knew about Miss Stalker and our mutual friend.  He asked me if there were any women I could fix him up with so he could get laid.  I had done this for a few guys, single unattached women not being a scarce commodity in Bartlesville at the time.

His intent was not for me to fix him up with her, I assure you.  But I saw a great opportunity for a practical joke.  Our whole relationship was based on joking one another.  Tit for tat.  I was a friend when he came to Bartlesville and he was going through a divorce where the gal pretty much cleaned him out.  He played doormat, letting her have every damn thing she wanted in an effort to please her.  Thing was is she was the one who was fucking around on him in the Philippines while he was off shore.  I know where his head was…at least now, because I’ve been there.  Not at the time though, but he didn’t even get an attorney and had to pay alimony and sell just about everything he had.  I bought some of his furniture and still have some nice rattan night stands.  We duck hunted together for years, drank, partied and were pretty tight.  Then came China Doll.

Well seeing the opportunity for a great joke at his expense, I had one of the young women in our section call him up and say she was Miss Vicky G. the Stalker and that I had told her he was interested in meeting her.  It was all real innocent like, no sexual references, just the lingering threat that he would now become the stalking target of Vicky.

He went ballistic.  Not with anger, but with fear!  He called his mommy, I mean his girlfriend.  He was terrified, either that Vicky would start to stalk him, or that it would get back to China Doll.  Unbeknownst to me, his girl friend China Doll knew Miss Stalker, either from church or school or Stalkers Anonymous or something. 

Well, fuck me!  She calls her up and confronts her.  Well, now haven’t I stepped into a nice tub of  shit!

Well, China Doll calls her friend Vicky and finds out that  the call wasn’t from her after all.   I can see the light bulb come on over his head to this day.  He connects the dots and they lead back to me. 

So he comes down and laughs and swears to get even, right?.  No, not on your life.  Most men would, if they still had a pair swinging between their legs they would.  But if yours are kept in a jar next to your girlfriend’s make-up, you have her call your friend and read him the riot act on your behalf. 

 

To be fair she did it without his approval, and the chagrin on his face and humiliation he felt was painful to see.  I hung up on her after telling her that she should let him take care of his own business, after all we traded practical jokes all the time.  Up till then anyway.

That was pretty much the end of our relationship, because she forbade him to go out drinking, which meant no time with me, and he had to take his future brother-in-law hunting with him, which meant I wouldn't be going because the kid could not find his ass with both hands.  I am surprised Scott could stand to hunt with him either.  My friend was pretty serious about his ducks and was mightly embarrasses when his future brother in law showed up wearing disco clothes to hunt ducks in.  Scott was a hunting purist and taught me pretty much all I know about hunting waterfowl.  Well not all of it, I just said that because I just used his name…whoops.  But I guess once he was family, he had to make allowances.  His parents, his mom and step dad had died, and he was alone.  So wanting to belong to a family and getting regular poon overrode any loyalty with his male friends.  Believe me I understand that.  I have been around long enough that some people can't live without family.  Besides, I was not going to bend over and spread’em for him no matter how close we had been or how many early mornings we spent in the woods together.

I feel I helped him through the divorce and then the shit done to him by the gal who ran one of the diet meal rip-off plans.  She ran around on him too.  I believe she drove a red Ford Bronco at the time, or maybe that was his.

I have very fond memories of our duck hunting and fishing on Copan together.  I only hope that eventually he got possession of his equipment back, but I doubt it.  They wouldn't go well with the tutu he probably has to wear around the house what with the short hem and all.