Twilighted?

The picture is me squinting like one of those posh ladies in the 1960s movies. Or was it the 60s? Anyways, in my head I had glossy red lipstick and slick, shiny hair, head tilted backwards, smoking a cigarette from its holder and smirking knowingly. I have a slight flair for the dramatics.
Where I was really was, was at work behind a stinking bar, no doubt looking like an idiot smirking to myself. Well, it was either that or crying.
I could feel this pair of eyes just burning a hole into me. The S.W.D. ( Scary Weird Dude) decided to nurse his unrequited love by drowning himself in Jack. Well, not drowning. Downing.
His eyes were following me everywhere. Every time I looked up, he was right in front of me, like some freaky Matrix move. Or a vampire. That particular thought had me in hysterics and before you could say 'Prada', I was having a close albeit blurry encounter with the filthy carpet and endless cigarette butts, doubled over in laughter.
Yeah... people were probably questioning my sanity at this point. That made me laugh even harder. Maybe they'd leave me the fuck alone. I somehow always seem to manage to get socially adopted by either Aggressively Happy People, or Creeps. Tough.
And S.W.D. was still looking at me weird, trying to talk to me. And it was funny because he was behaving like every body's fictitious crush, Edward Cullen. With the brooding and the intense looks and him wanting to just hold me and me waking up in his shirt ... it was SO fucking annoying and chillingly creepy. It was.. no.. just NO.
And everyone of these girls thinks this novel character is so romantic and sweet. What they choose to ignore is that he's obsessive and stalking and creepy. If every one of them met a guy like that in real life, they'd be having restraining orders issued like they were warm bread buns.
The lion does does not 'fall in love with the lamb', people. It eats it.
Cheers.