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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Darth Shoju" data-source="post: 1948183" data-attributes="member: 11397">OK so this is a story of a not-too-bad date and some big weirdness to follow. It was about a month after I had broken up with a girl I was in love with (who I later got back together with and is now my wife). I was messed up and rebounding hard. I was working a rare Saturday shift and was rather bored (I work in a call centre and Saturdays are super slow). I had one of those IM programs that allows you to have all your IM contacts from various applications (MSN, yahoo, ICQ, etc) open in one display. Early on in the day I got an IM from a girl whose screen name I didn't recognize. She started talking like I had contacted her first so I guessed we had spoken at least once (if briefly) on IM in the past. We spent the day chatting and sort of getting to know each other. She seemed fairly normal if somewhat lacking in attention span. We agreed to meet up that night at a restaurant and, if things went well, to attend my friend's party (which was a few houses down from my place and near the restaurant).   So later that night we met up for dinner. She was quite attractive and seemed rather nice. During the course of our dinner I found I was having some trouble following her stories about herself. The one that stands out in my mind was regarding her car. She claimed to have a blue camaro (complete with nitrous). When I asked why she didn't drive it to meet me, she said that it was in the shop after beeing broken into. She proceeded to tell me the story of the break-in, but by the end it wasn't actually broken into, but rather a steel pole from a passing truck had smashed through the windshield. Like I said, I was confused but wrote it up to a misunderstanding on my part, possibly due to her strong accent (she was Carribean). But like I said, she was attractive and things didn't seem all that strange just yet, so we headed to my friend's party.  Things went well at the party, although for some reason she decided to remove her fake nails there and leave them on my friend's coffee table (?). We headed back to my place and fooled around quite a bit (like I said, I was rebounding). Whilst the fooling around was happening, she told me she worked at a local bar, and her boss had sexually harassed her. She didn't seem terribly upset by it but obviously I was concerned. She said she was looking into charges so I offered my sympathy and we didn't speak of it further. So I walked her to her car and she said she'd call me tomorrow...and then said she loved me. Needless to say I was a little alarmed and said something like "Uhh, thanks." She didn't seemed phased and said she'd call me the next day.  And so, over the next couple weeks I speak to her on the phone 4-5 times. Over the course of those conversations, she tells me increasingly bizarre stories. They start off innocently enough, like how she was attending the technical college that's right beside my workplace, then how she applied to work where I work (at this point I'm getting concerned). Then she says things like she got her camaro out of the shop but it was having transmission problems on the way to school so she had to pull over and fix them herself (on the side of the road...). She also told me that she was trying to take her boss to court for harassing her, but the bar was owned by a company in California so it was getting difficult, so she hacked into the FBI database (!) and found out her boss was wanted for murder and drug trafficking (!!). About this time I decided she was more or less a loon and decided not to call her anymore. In our last phone conversation she said her ex-boyfriend had found her and come into her house and punched her in the face, so she had to go back into the witness relocation program and move to Vancouver, but she'd give me her phone # (didn't know you could tell people where you were going and give them your number in that program). She said she figured she'd resume her career as a fashion model when she hit the west coast (seems kind of high-profile for the witness relocation program). I had now decided that she was a pathological liar (I briefly entertained the notion she was kidding about all this, but she was just too serious in her delivery and showed no signs of humour about her stories). I think she was getting the idea I didn't want to have anything to do with her and said she'd phone me, but luckily she never did. I eventually broke it off completely in an email (as nicely as I could...she knew where I lived). Thankfully she didn't turn out to be a stalker (unless she is a really really subtle one) and seems to have let the whole thing drop. But I definately learned a lesson about meeting people on the internet (although that is where I met my wife )</blockquote>

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