Once Upon A Time . . . I stalked

While recently exchanging emails with my friend and fellow blogger Nicole, a memory of my youth came to mind that made me chuckle. It was when Nicole wrote, “promise me, we won’t go on a stalking spree” that I had a flashback - pizza and records and John Tesh came to my mind. A moment from my past when I exuded a behavior I would now consider to be in such bad taste and serious loser-ness, that of course I must share it with you.

Yes, my friends, I once stalked.

Now, before you call the authorities on me, or send an anonymous email to PG warning him of my troubled past, let me set the scene for you.

The year was 1987, when big mall hair with banana clips, swatch watches and cavaricci pants were all the fad.

I was 16 years old, and a junior in high school.

And I was in love. I mean, SERIOUSLY.in.love, with the man who worked at Coconuts Music Store on the corner of 95th Street and Ridgeland Avenue. Yes. Love.

However, there were a few problems with that Love. . . .

1. He was an older man (like, 19, at least)
2. He didn’t even know I was alive
3. And I think he had a girlfriend

But, my friends, it was LOVE.

I remember visiting said Coconuts Music Store at least once a week, just to see him (and therefore building up a really cool collection of music.) He was dreamy . . . a cross between Michael Bolton, John Tesh, and John Taylor from Duran Duran (hey … it was 1987, ok? Cut me a little slack, will you?) He had long wavy blond hair that some might now categorize as a mullet, but back then, was SO gorgeous. And he had facial hair – which most boys my grade didn’t quite have yet. He was so . . . cool.

I remember one night, sitting in my Dad’s Pontiac with my friend Karen, waiting for Mr. Coconut himself to close up the record store. We waited and watched, because where ever he was going, we were going, too. I remember following him to a nearby take-out pizza place, I think, and then on to what I assume was his parents home. Yep, we followed him all the way home, where we did what any 16 year old would do . . . we drove back and forth pass that house about 20 times that night. Just waiting . . . For what? I have no idea.

And I don’t think I ever did it again. That is, I never followed him home again. But I am almost certain that my girlfriends and I passed his house a few times that summer. Just waiting for a glimpse, perhaps, of dreaminess. Ah . . . to be young and in LOVE. ;)

Luckily, 10 years later I married my TRUE love, PG. And never looked back again.

I rarely visit the old neighborhood. But when I do, I still glance in that store front and laugh when I think of the night I stalked Mr. Coconuts, so many many years ago. Then I put on my Duran Duran CD and dance.

Life is Good. Even when you stalk.