Little Coaster Punchman: A Stalker in the Making

This is my childhood ex-neighbor Jenny. She is a stone cold fox and definitely NOT a bitch!

Longtime readers of CPW remember the story of my childhood ex-neighbor Jenny, the little girl who only wanted me for my box. Back when I used to have fans and regular readers, many of said fans and regular readers rallied to support me as I relived this recklessly painful childhood trauma. But as sweet and appreciated as your support was, I now have to confess that Jenny is actually not a total bitch. Or if she is a bitch, she is only 1/3 the bitch that I am.

Hmmm, maybe I'm digging myself a hole here because being 1/3 the bitch that I am is still pretty bad. Let me rethink that and get back to you.

Anyway, later on I related to you the strange tale of how I once stalked Jenny by embroidering her a pillow and sending it to her in the mail along with a secret admirer letter. Somewhere in the comments section that followed the tale I mentioned that Jenny and I had actually reunited on Facebook. Which means that I could contact her any time I wanted.

The result of this confession is that avid commenters GetKristiLove and Chris ganged up and goaded me into confessing the whole story to Jenny while taping it live for the cringy-embarrassment of whatever readers I have left after having neglected my blog for so long.

Mainly because I love to be ganged up on (sick fetish) I took the bait and did contact Jenny. Live. On video. And confessed to her that I was the stalker who hand embroidered her the ugly pillow.

Here is the result. Admittedly, it may not be as enticing as any of the classic Mama Gin videos, but I hope some of you will enjoy it anyway.

CP

ps: There are several cat cameos in this video. There's an especially good one near the end, where Grover pounces into my lap, demanding attention as I try to wrap up the phone call.

I'm a secret-eating-listener

If you’ve been reading my blog, you already know about my deep love for the CMTVM genre. But here’s way #2 that I’m a freak: I have this weird fetish where I like to listen to people eat. But not just ordinary eating. I like to listen to people eat when they are trying to pretend they are not eating. Like when they are sneaking bites of food while talking on the phone with me. Or when they’re eating somewhere they’re not supposed to be eating, while trying to be quiet about it. In short, I'm a secret-eating-listener.

When I was in college, students used to sneak food into the library all the time. They would squirrel themselves away in their little study carrels, thinking they were going to be able to munch away privately. Not so, as long as I was around. It’s not like I would seek it out, but as soon as someone would set him or herself up with a bag of chips or a sandwich in a neighboring carrel, I was theirs for the duration. Whatever else I was working on would just have to wait until “lunch” was over. I probably wasted an entire month’s worth of study time over the course of my college career with my secret-eating-listening.

I should note that while the word “fetish” has a sexual connotation, my fascination with secret-eating-listening is distinctly non-sexual. I don’t know quite how to define it, but secret eating stimulates some kind of positive energy within me, like the warm fuzzies some of us get when a cat is purring. One time I was on a hour-long business call where the person on the other end of the phone was trying to pretend he wasn’t eating. I was absolutely week-kneed. Had to keep asking him to repeat himself. Another time when I was working phone tech support, this woman I was helping was quietly sucking on cough drop for about 20 minutes, and it made me positively dizzy.

For those of you who know me, I should also note that obvious eating doesn’t do the same trick for me. I told George about this little fascination of mine when we were first dating long-distance, and after that he was always trying to titillate me by eating whenever we were on the phone. It didn’t work, because I could tell he was trying. It has to be bona-fide secret eating to get my fancy.

I wonder if I’ll upset anyone with this news. I once worked in an office where there was this secretary who had a fascination with watching people eat. If you worked there any length of time, you were warned to look out for her in the lunchroom because at some point everyone would catch her sneaking a peek. One time she was sitting next to me, and halfway through lunch I realized she’d been enjoying my three-bean salad right along with me for at least half an hour. Her staring was kind of cute, but I made her stop nonetheless.

So if you are reading this, consider yourself on notice. And if you ever think you’re fooling me while you’re quietly munching on that power bar or swallowing tiny spoonfuls of yogurt while you’re on the phone with me, think again. But if you’re lucky and you convince me that your eating is secret, don’t be surprised if I figure out a way to extend the call an extra 20 minutes or so.