Today I am thankful that I followed a man in a white Dodge Ram E1500:
He turned out to be too darn familiar.
It was a very weird day.
I think I found a new office. Renting this one will give me access to four high end buildings across the city.
I'm fairly excited that things are looking up.
Hooray!
For the first time in years, I made my calendar public so that my clients could choose their own appointments.
I blocked out the hours 10:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.
That was a mistake.
One of my appointments cancelled and I found myself home at 11:40.
That was when I ran into a man who looked like Doug V.
Doug is Shannon's fiancé. He is the man who harassed me in Arvada. He's the guy who approaches me on the street to call me Satan. He is the guy who went into a colleagues office, shuffled her papers and demanded to know where I went to church. He was the guy who watched Thomas and I dine on pizza.
I'm not sure if he's the dark haired guy who watched Jim and I.
Doug has been known to stalk with Shannon. I figured that since Shannon was dead, it would be over.
I guess not.
I had another appointment at noon. I pulled out of the garage and noticed a white, single cab, Dodge Ram pick-up blocking my driveway. I stop. I put on the parking brake, take the key out of the ignition and start to walk around the truck to talk to the driver.
The windows were heavily tinted. I started to get a rotten feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I decided to simply drive on the grass and into the street as to avoid this individual.
I went back to my car, buckled myself in, reset the parking break and started to back up.
The truck took off.
I followed.
I pulled up alongside him when we were stuck at a red light. He had rolled his window down 1/4 of the way which allowed me to see part of his face and his silhouette. Oh, my...I knew who he was in an instant.
I followed it to a set of condos three rights from my home. He basically lives up the street.
After I finished with my appointment, I looked up the address on the voter rolls. Voter rolls are listed in order of address, not name. If you know an address, you can find the name of the last tenant. I guess there are some perks to being a political activist. We know how to get information.
Suite 103, at the address the truck stopped, belongs to Douglas V*g* born in 1972.
His middle name is Vladimir.
His last name is the same as a singer. I actually know a couple of male musicians with the name Vega. None are as famous as Suzanne.....yet.
So....I'm a little freaked out.
I called the police.
They are patrolling the neighborhood.
They want to see the surveillance footage from the camera in front of the house.
Sigh....
I didn't know if I should write about this. We have had bizarre things done to the porch in the past couple of weeks. I thought it was negligible. I actually went to a shrink because I thought I was imagining things.
I guess not.
I'm thinking about selling the house and moving now.
I may not. I'm thinking about taking a swipe at the City Council seat. I could be Doug's representative!
Wouldn't that be funny?
I don't know.
My choices are school board, city council or a state seat next year.
Decisions.....decisions.
I know Shannon read this stupid thing. I don't know that Doug did. I'm going to write below as if he is as good a stalker as his former fiancée was.
Doug....if you are stalking this page....write a letter. Don't show up again.
My neighbors saw you.
They will call the police if you show up again.
I reported the license plate number to the authorities (611-*Q*). They are searching the neighborhood for the truck. My neighbor is a private investigator. He's researching you. So far he hasn't told me anything scary. You're an unaffiliated voter. That's so cool! I have a little more respect for you after learning that tidbit.
There is a pretty good chance that you borrowed the truck. I'll contact Jewish Family Services to see if it was a company vehicle. Yeah...my friend is a really good private investigator. You drive for them? Delivering lunches to poor children? Wow....how did you caught up in such evil? You seem to be a decent person.
I am thinking of taking Shannon's death certificate to the police. It lists you as her fiancé. If they can link you to Shannon and the stalking, they have motive. I have boxes of evidence against Shannon. I never had the heart to get a restraining order.
I don't have the motive. I don't know what the heck is going on. Michael thinks that you were here on behalf of his mother. It was her birthday. He thinks you wanted to try to get him to call her.
I don't know. You may want photos of Shannon for a memorial. I used to take photos and audio recordings of people giving their best wishes to others at parties. I probably have things you want.
You may want to talk to Michael. Michael doesn't live here. I don't know where he lives.
I don't know.
Hanging around outside and blocking my driveway is only one way to get my attention. It doesn't help me know what you need.
I don't know what you want.
My best advice for you is to write a letter.
I'll forward it to Michael the next time I hear from him. I'll try to get him to send you some nice photos of your fiancé in her youth that I saved for our children. I have the negatives. I can replace the pictures. I don't know where the audio recordings are. I may have given them to her mother.
I'm sorry for your loss.
I can't cope with the stalking. I don't know why she and you felt compelled to do the crazy things you did. Stop it.
I understand that you were probably lied to. I know that you were lied about.
You don't know the hell Shannon's mother created for my family. I had to cut ties when she threatened to lie to the cops about me. I made the tough decision to stay away; that was the only way to protect myself from those lies.
I was informed that YOU put Shannon up to stalking me. I know that is not true. You weren't around in 1992 when it began. I know....you're innocent of anything prior to 2011.
I know.....the stories that you are abusive to Shannon are lies. The stories that you forced Shannon to pay for your college education are lies, too. Do you know how I know? They said the exact same things about me.
Perhaps your God was looking out for you when he lured Shannon to more heavenly pastures.
That sounds like an evil thing to say -but- that family is crazy. We can't fix crazy. We can only hide from it.
I ask that you kindly stay away. I offered to pay for a family therapist to re-integrate Shannon's mother into her grandchildren's lives. That is her only route. It's up to her to do that. It is not up to you or me. Besides, the custody agreement unequivocally states that Michael's mother is to stay away from the grandchildren without Michael's consent. I will be held in contempt of court if I allow her to see them without Michael signing an agreement. If your aim is to get me to help Patricia see the girls, I can't help you.
This has been and always will be an issue between Michael and his family. You and I are best kept far away from it. The stalking drove me to divorce Michael. Please don't make it drive me to getting you arrested.
Go your own way. Move forward. Find an honest girl who likes volunteering as much as you do.
(Oh, the perils of dealing with the devil....this is the best song about dark magic pacts.)
Doug, stay the heck away from me....and my sorcery. Master Satan would be incredibly offended that you called me by his name. I think he's probably angrier at me than you. I do piss off the sex demons because I'm celibate....and...I refused to sign that ten year contract. I'm told that I could play better than Stanley Clarke if I signed that thing and sold my soul.
It's tempting!
I never want to light another black candle again. Every time I do that, people die.
Maybe you're right. Maybe I am Satan.
Maybe I'm just effing with you.
Okay....I'm just effing with you.
I still have my concealed carry. To some liberals, that makes me worse than Satan!
Please....stay away.
Love ya,
S.
Edit: Okay....okay.....I was informed that I cannot make a pact with the devil. I was born with auburn hair, thus I have no soul to sell.
I guess I'll never play as well as Clark, as Miller, as Wooten, as Flea, or Collins....
unless I practice 40 hours a week for four decades....
Hmmmmm....I'll be dead by then.
Maybe I'll be a bassist in my next life.
Maybe......