As a stalker magnet, I love my creepers. No, seriously, I do. They make every day more adrenaline-filled and interesting. Fleeing from them keeps me in great shape, and their sneak attacks keep my reflexes sharp. There are some who I know I will see if I go to their usual hangouts (campus, my closet, the bushes outside my window, etc), and their reliability is comforting. But I have a few suggestions for the non-regulars who decide to hit on me each week to help them step up their creeper game a bit.
1. To that guy driving on the opposite side of the street from me who stopped traffic, opened his door, and offered me a ride with a creepy smile: You don't understand how the creeper thing works, do you? You're supposed to be driving a windowless white van. I'm sorry, but that's just how it works. You might also want to consider growing some facial hair. I'm not saying it has to be a full-out beard, but a simple pedo-stache would do wonders.
2. Inviting me into your molestermobile is great, and I'm totally flattered, but there's one problem: you didn't offer me candy or a puppy. Seriously. You're going to have to bribe me. I'm not choosy, even stickers will do (bonus points if they're the scratch and sniff kind). But don't neglect that component of stalkerdom. Seriously, respect the Creeper Code.
3. If your windowless white van has a “how's my driving?” bumper sticker, and your ID number is still legible… you probably shouldn't shout inappropriate things at me, especially if I'm PMS-ing. It'll piss me off, and I probably have a phone with me. Side note, the guy I spoke with at the aforementioned how's-my-driving number told me I sounded attractive. And you doubted my stalker magnet status.
4. They can't talk. There's no point in asking them how it's going. Not only will they not respond, they will probably walk away. We're talking about boobs here, folks. I know they're there, I'm aware that they stick out, and I'm aware that you think they're spiffy. They're not going to come home with you based on your lame pick-up line. You're going to need to get the girl attached to them interested in you as well (assuming you're out of roofies [date rape is bad, kids]).
5. Yelling, “Damn, girl!” at me as you drive by, or honking, whistling, or flashing various parts of your anatomy will not get you laid. Neither will following me home or playing an uninvited game of 20 questions about where I live. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't work like that. But I might roll my eyes, and if you're lucky, I might raise a finger at you. Hey, at least I acknowledged your existence, right? Baby steps.
6. Randomly adding me on Facebook goes over a lot better if you haven't listed “girls” under your activities. Not because it's chauvinistic (in fact I'm all for that whole get-in-the-kitchen thing), but because there is an art to being a creeper. It's that sparkle of rape in your eye, the subtle leer in your smile, and the way you find excuses to touch me during casual conversation. Being a blatant creeper takes all the fun out of the stalker-stalkee game.
7. If you're going to stare at me creepily for an extended period of time, at least say hi or something. Seriously. Plus if you're talking to me, looking at me is simply the polite thing to do, and you'll be able to do so for an extended period of time without me slowly edging away from you. The odd thing about the guys who tend to do the staring thing is that they tend to actually be trying to make direct eye contact the entire time.
8. On a related note, if you're staring at me while you drive, please take breaks to make sure you're still driving on the road and in the correct lane. When you veer off the road towards me because you're incapable of driving towards anything other than what you're looking at, that's bad. If you squish me with your van, you'll have to find someone new to creep on. Save yourself the effort, and steer properly.
9. Hanging outside my windows is totally creepy, and you're on the right track. But remember to kick it up a notch with heavy, exaggerated breathing. It's no fun for either of us if you just sit out there in the cold all night. If you want to hang out front of my apartment during the day, I have a new request: please be entertaining. Those of you who think you can just stand there and hit on me whenever I walk out the door need to step it up. You need to start entertaining me. Lure me outside. Do an interpretive dance, sing a song about what you're watching me do, or perform improve—these are all acceptable.
10. So you know my favorite places to hang out. Way to go! But here's a hint: while a good creeper will casually walk by to see if I'm there, a great creeper will be there when I arrive, sitting next to my favorite chair ready to tell me all about what I said in my sleep last night and request that I install softer carpeting under my bed.
Happy creeping!