A STALKER, like a suicide bomber, is a person of principle. The difference is just tactical: A suicide bomber likes surprises—for example, big explosions in crowded pizzerias. The stalker's work is a lot less spectacular. The stalker doesn't mind the mundane, is used to rejection. The stalker refines the practice of creative persistence. A stalker is not a quitter.
Stalkers possess other nice qualities, too. Passion—pure, predatory, irascible passion. A stalker is goal-oriented and self-motivated, a true self-starter. Self-everything, actually, including self- financed: Stalkers, unlike suicide bombers, never get funded. Another difference between the two avocations is the inevitability, for the suicide bomber, of rapid limb disbursement, whereas the love-struck stalker is just struggling to, as they say, keep it together. Oh, one more difference: When you talk about suicide bombers, you usually get to use the word "shrapnel," which is fun to say aloud.
Suicide bombers are morbidly droll, but they're serious, they're not clowns, and, to their credit, they certainly know how to take something to the next level. A stalker could take a lesson there. Gone are the days when threatening e-mails meant anything; love in a time of war means saying what you mean. It means fertilizer bombs FedExed to the rival love interest. It means literally producing fireworks—and shrapnel.
Not that direct violence is the only way to go—it's just the most fun. No! Wait! Violence is bad! Other, infinitely more romantic tactics abound. Here are some creative ways to remind the spiritless, charges-pressing restraining-order- issuer they are truly the one for you.
Send something by post. Thoughtfulness counts, so not any old gift will do. Flowers shrivel up and die, which can be fine, but you might get a bigger response with a more traditional, stalker-appropriate sweet nothing: a box of animal crackers with the heads bitten off, or scabs pulled from your own healing skin, or chunks of ground beef. Nothing says "Be mine" like a box of meat.
Follow the gift with a letter. Avoid expletives; instead, set a conversational tone. Mention, for example, how terrific it was to see them recently—"Great to see you the other day at the gym. I realize I don't have a membership there, but is that really any reason for the police to show up? What gives? What exactly are considered 'the premises' anyway?"
Never stop calling. A nonanswer—when you can clearly see, through binoculars, that they are very well at home—means they're playing hard to get. Consistency is key, and so is calling from a pay phone. (Caller ID can be so cruel.) Just think of your calls as daily check-ins, sort of like your calls to the unemployment office or the probation lady. Love is patient.
Don't sublimate your anger. It needs to stay pure. Bottle it up. Bury it deep.
Slip 50 pounds of plastic explosives into the trunk of the beloved one's car. Do it prior to their next weekend trip to Vancouver. Nothing says "If I can't have you, no one will" like being framed for international terrorism at the Canadian border.
In terms of fashionable stalker accoutrements, a few tips:
Buy a bigger freezer. Creepy people love to freeze and thaw things.
Cover the floor of your apartment with newspaper. Basement apartments are best, stylewise.
Careful what you wear. No overalls—dead giveaway. Latex gloves, on the other hand, can be very fashion-forward.
Finally, a few words about your critics:
Some people insist that stalkers stalk because they are missing something in their own lives. These people are known as uptight. They're also known as Republican, jealous, and pathetic. Cheer them up by calling them and breathing loudly on their voice mail for as long as you possibly can. Then hang up. Trust me, that's all the love they're gonna get.