How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?

Dear Crabby,

During my "unfortunate incarceration" at Mom and Dad's, I was very lucky to be devoid of any Nervous William sightings. This was a good thing, because in my weakened condition I really don't know if I could have withstood it.

I had had a few dealings with him before that, though. In fact, it wasn't too long after my long and rambling therapy blog about William that he came into my office to tell me he was moving. I'd heard on the grapevine that his mother was getting married, so this didn't come as any big surprise to me (he lives with his mom). But where did he tell me he was moving? To an apartment above a business in a building here in town - approximately five doors up from TheCompanyIWorkFor.

Well, I went into panic mode for a while, until I decided I just didn't care anymore, and that the next time I saw him, I was telling him to leave me alone and stop coming in my office (although that's hard because his family are also clients), and that some of the lies he was throwing around (his meeting Mr M in Kroger one day) went beyond creepy. And if it pissed him off, great. Maybe he'd leave me the fuck alone.

The next time he appeared in my office, I was ready . Until he came in cradling his new puppy in his arms. How do you tell someone off when they're holding a little doggie? You don't, if you're me. If you're me, the damn big fuckin' weenie-ass, who needs to get into any number of people's faces and tell them exactly how I feel about them, but can't.

And so I waited. I waited for N. William to move into an apartment next to TheCompanyIWorkFor. He never did. Another of his lies? If so, that was a lie I was happy about.

And so I recovered, and saw nothing of my Nervous Nemesis. Until the last day I was at Mom and Dad's. In fact, I was pushing an armload of my stuff into their van when he drove down their street and caught me. He was manic, so he spouted his piece pretty quickly before zooming off, but in this little exchange, he informed me that his mother got married and he was moving to Radford.

Radford. Radford! Radford! The clouds parted, and a sunbeam came down upon my broken body. I may have heard a heavenly host of angels. Radford's about 90 minutes from here. At one time Will told me he was thinking of going back to school at Radford University, and I took it with a complete grain of salt, as I do many things he says. But maybe, just maybe, he might be telling the truth this time. (Radford also has a "nervous hospital," which would be very convenient following the first day everything didn't go his way, but we won't even go down that road.)

And so I went home, happy for about 3 hours until I realized that there was no way in hell William would move to Radford. He'd crumble like an oatmeal cookie within a week. It's something he concocted in his twisted gourd and was going around spouting to anyone who'd listen, and I happened to be in that lucky party.

I didn't hear from him, but I saw his car here and there, and I knew that I was right. I didn't really care though, as long as he was away from me.

This morning he was in the office bright and early. He came in and kept complimenting me on my skin. Apparently he was looking straight past the dark circles under my eyes that would make Herman Munster green(er) with envy. He invited me to a concert that was going on somewhere Sunday. I told him no, that I wasn't going to be home. That I'd be doing a Sauerkraut Band gig Saturday and staying over in B'burg that night. That was true.

I wish I wouldn't have said that. I wish I'd have just said, "No, I won't go." The last time I completely turned him down flat on an invitation with no explanation, he got the message. He also ended up in the bin for awhile, but at least he was out of my hair. Mean, but honest.

Anyway, after my explanation, William said something that almost made me laugh in his face. When I mentioned the Sauerkraut Band gig, he said, "Oh, yeah, I know the Sauerkraut Band. In fact, I've seen the Sauerkraut Band." William has no more seen the Sauerkraut Band than I've had dinner with the Harmonicats. I have no idea why he thinks he can get away with these statements.

Oh, wait. He can get away with them. Because I sit there straight-faced and let him say them.

Why can't I look him in the eye and tell him he needs to leave me alone? Am I really that nice? Can you set him up with a scholarship and an apartment in Radford? Please help me.

Signed,
Bumfuzzled in B'field

Dear Bum,

Grow some balls and tell this ho-ho off. It's nobody's fault but yours.

Crabby