I work in a bar-and-grill. I handle the grill end.
One Saturday night not long ago they hired a new waitress, Pam. The first thing she said to me was “Are you married?”, which I answered in the negative. That whole evening she was coming on to me–she kept saying things like “Damn, you’re so cute.” I found her only somewhat good-looking, but it was her bubbly personality that actually attracted me to her. She stated her age as a little younger than mine, but she looked a few years older (not a problem for me, though).
After I punched out (at about 11:00) I walked the five steps to the main bar and found a secluded seat in the back. For the rest of the evening I drank beer and slipped her Cuervo shots when the wrong bartenders weren’t looking.
Her ride home didn’t show up and she immediately accepted the ride I offered her.
At her house she invited me in and introduced me to some houseguests. We talked for hours. Actually, mostly, she talked and I occasionally got a word in edgewise. We eventually ended up in the bedroom around 6:00 a.m…
In bed, she brought out something that looked like a miniature honeypot that had a soft brush on the inside of the lid. She said it was “bee pollen”. She brushed it on her body for me to lick off. It smelled and tasted like honey only better. I thought it was fantastic and wondered why I hadn’t heard of this stuff before.
Afterwards we cuddled and I finally got to talk, but she was really sleepy and I don’t think she heard much. Before I could doze off, though, she announced that it was time for me to go. I went home and slept.
So far not so unusual.
I called her number a few times over the next couple of days and got no answer. Finally on Tuesday evening I got her. I asked if I could see her and she told me I could come over and meet her friends and family but I couldn’t stay the night. That was fine for me because I really just wanted us to get to know each other. For some reason I had the strong feeling that we were right for each other, and I wanted to explore that with her.
From the moment I arrived things started getting strange and scary. Her friends and family (about 7 of them) all seemed fine with my presence except for her friend Willy. A number of times he took her aside and whispered to her. There was something strange and unsettling and about the way he looked at me, so I avoided eye contact with him most of the time. (He looked like Norman Bates from the original Psycho) After a while she, at odd times in the conversation, began making remarks like “We don’t know you yet, so we can’t trust you.” Then her adult son picked it up and began claiming that he “sensed” something wrong about me and insisted I tell him what it was. I had no idea what he was talking about. At one point I put my hand, gently, on her shoulder in order to get her attention so I could ask her about getting a drink. Willy took her aside and whispered again, and she reported to me that Willy didn’t like the “threatening” way I had touched her. She, oddly, failed to mention that she did not agree with his assessment. Looking in his eyes I saw intense rage and immediately started gathering myself to leave. She asked me to stay and tried to take my hand, but I wouldn’t let her touch me. I was scared Willy might go nuts. I left.
I thought that it was all over–that she would not have anything to do with me ever again and this greatly depressed me. What you need to understand, though, is that I’m nothing like this. I don’t fall in love at first sight. I don’t get obsessed about a woman. If a woman turns out to be scary or abusive or too much to deal with I get out immediately. I should not have felt that way about a woman I had just met and didn’t hardly know, and I told myself this over and over, but it didn’t change the way I felt.
The next workday was Wednesday, and although I longed to see and talk to her I also desperately hoped she would not show up. I can’t even describe the way I felt when opening time came and she had failed to appear.
About four hours after she was scheduled to begin work she walked up behind me and somewhat angrily demanded “Why haven’t you returned my calls?” As of the time I left for work I had not gotten any calls from her. I told her this and she professed to not understand why this was.
Later, after the grill was closed, we sat and talked for an hour or two. All was forgiven. She had talked to Willy about what was and was not his business. I wanted to spend more time with her after work, but she said she had to get home and I couldn’t come over that night. We did sit in her car (It didn’t occur to me to ask where her car had been on Saturday) and engage in heavy petting. She told me to call her about lunch the next day. When I got home I saw that she had called a single time three hours after the time that she knew I left for work. Somehow this obvious warning sign went right over my head.
The next day I called her and she decided to come over to my place, so I gave her directions. She came over and teased me for a couple of hours, and then, suddenly, announced that she had an important errand to run and left.
The next two days I called her from work to see why she was late and she said she was having family problems and would talk to the owner about coming in late or something. He gave her a second, third, and even a fourth chance, but she failed to show up each time. When I talked to her I let her know that I wasn’t trying to convince her to keep the job if she didn’t want it, but, rather, I just wanted to see her. On Saturday when I tried to call I was told that she was at work. Apparently she had found a new job.
For the next week every time I called her she was unavailable for some reason or another. I left messages with her friends and family asking her to return my calls. She never did. I really wanted to talk to her, but I was scared to call too often for fear of annoying her. I became extremely depressed and mopey. At the same time I also felt great, undirected anger and violent urges that are not usual at all for me. I wanted to pick a fight with someone. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t mad at her. I tried to redirect my anger at her thinking that if I did I could get over her, but I couldn’t do it. I had an unbeatable longing and need for her that was tearing me up inside.
Finally, I gave her one last call. I planned to leave a message with whoever answered that I was sorry for whatever I did wrong (I was sure that must be the problem), and that if she would have someone call me and tell me to leave her alone I would. Of course, this time she answered herself. She apologized for not returning my calls, but gave no excuse. I couldn’t bring myself to ask for one, much less demand it, which is how I felt.
She told me she couldn’t see me that night, but that she would call me about lunch the next day. No call. I called her. So sorry, how about dinner. I’ll call you. No call. I called her and Willy said she wasn’t there.
I gave up and went to the beer store. (My alcohol consumption had tripled since I met her, and I hardly ate at all anymore.) On the way back I saw a car way behind me flashing its lights but I ignored it. This was close to the turnoff that went to her house. Shortly after I got home she pulled up and asked why I didn’t stop for her. I apologized and asked her in. We hugged, kissed, flirted and talked for a while, and then she said she had to leave but that she would call me that night and have me over.
I stayed up late waiting. No call. I decided not to call her until she called me. It hurt me to do so because it reduced my chance of seeing her. On those few occasions that I got to see or talk to her I was elated and ecstatic. In between those times I was depressed and miserable, but I couldn’t bring myself to blame her.
The next evening I went to the grocery store and ran into an ex-lover. We chatted amiably for awhile (it wasn’t a bad breakup), and she asked what had ever happened to us. I had no answer to that–I didn’t know why we stopped seeing each other. She asked if I was seeing anyone, and I, without hesitation, said “no”. The funny thing was I didn’t feel like I was lying. She asked me over to dinner at her place that night, and I agreed.
The evening ended up where our evenings together always ended up. It was one of the best times we had ever had together.
All the way home, late that night, I wondered about what had come over me. All my feelings about Pam were gone. I had zero interest in ever seeing her again. I was finally pissed off at her for all the crap I went through, but didn’t want to confront her about it. On the contrary, I felt a strong sense of dread at the very thought of seeing or talking to her. All sense of depression was gone, replaced by relief. I couldn’t explain to myself my feelings or my actions during that time and I still don’t understand.
Once home I checked my calls and had none. Ten minutes later the phone rang and the caller ID showed Pam’s number. I decide to answer and tell her to go away and leave me alone, forever. I answered and it was Willy. He said Pam had showed him where I lived and threatened to come over and kill me if I didn’t leave her alone. I wanted to laugh out loud but didn’t want him to get some wrong idea. I assured him that he would have no problem from me and I asked him to make sure that she understood that I felt the same way about not seeing her ever again. I waited while he repeated me to her and then she came on the line. I heard the phoneme “Wh” as if she wanted to ask me something and I hung up before I even got the first word.
Epilogue:
I searched “bee pollen” on the net and aside from the usual unrelated crap and some beekeeping related stuff the rest was mostly about witchcraft!
So…was I under a spell?
