Year of writing 259. The stalker

9/17/12


On the way to watch Monday night football at a friends house I had only been to once before, at night, I got lost.  The house is up a side street, past some orchards, across a bridge, that kind of place.  In my circling around and around where senor GPS told me the house should be, I passed a woman and a teenage boy standing outside their house talking.  I passed them probably six or seven times before I realized that the woman was my old high school Government teacher Ms. Bartow.  I paused to roll down the window and she ushered herself and her kid swiftly inside the house with a look of genuine panic on her face.  Great.  Now my high school teacher thinks I'm stalking her family.