Advice to Stalkers…

I thought I’d give a word of advice to anyone out there who figures it’s okay to be a creepy stalker…

Today, the Squeeze (who I still want to punch after last weeks parent-goggles bullshit) and I went off to Federation Square for the Melbourne Jazz Festival.  Let me mention at this point in time - I would rather be stripped naked, covered in honey and staked to an ants nest as opposed to sitting through jazz; however it is only for one hour and even I can suck that up.

Kid 1 was playing and so off we went, into the cold; scarves, hot coffee and bacon and egg muffins.

Midway through Kid 1’s 'set', the Harridan, Kid 3 and assorted other velvet wearing relatives showed up to parade around.

We kept a low profile and in fact it was like a morning in dance lessons as we waltzed around the square avoiding one velvet wearer or another.

The Harridan, in some sort of weird “I’m a freaking stalker” kind of action, left her people and walked through the crowd to stand about 3 metres from us.  I strategically positioned myself to have my back to her – so she came and stood on the other side – this time about 3 feet from us.  Once again, I spun and faced the other direction.  Frankly, I think I was as graceful as a ballerina!  Eventually, she moseyed off back to velvet clan without uttering a word (not that I actually looked or acknowledged her) but I thought ‘who the Hell does that?’ 

How creepy is this woman?   She’s like the terminator.  She can’t be reasoned with.  She can’t be bargained with.  And she absolutely will not stop until we are dead!

She may think she unsettled us but to be perfectly honest, all I could do was grin to myself.  Even velvet wearing, non antibiotic, vegetarian tossers start porking up in their 50’s.  I was thrilled to see her white coat stretching tight and outlining several middle aged rolls.

So thrilled, I took a picture  

Face altered to protect my ass….