My doorbell

Flashback.

Before the days of power, fame money and mass criticism, I too was once adored. Unfortunately it was the kind of adoration I could have done without.

Let this be a lesson for you.

It was the first month after I had my second assistant psychology job when I was doing a piece of work at a community drop in centre. I was there for 14 exciting days, doing bits of questionnaire delivering, getting feedback and under the feet of the millions of Occupational therapists that seemed to crawl out the woodwork. Dudley, was a regular visitor, a seemingly harmless enough dishevelled man in a parka that sat drinking nasty sludgy "Maxpax" vending machine coffee. I would nod and smile and engage him in general chit chat, like I did with the rest of the regulars.

Only Dudley got a little, uh, over attatched. I first noticed this when he started following me down the small sandwich shop on the corner. I naively thought he just lived down that particular road, but then he would pop back up in the clinic later and then talk to me all about Sandwiches. Clearly, I liked sandwiches and as he too liked sandwiches he thought it would no doubt impress me with this bread-snack related commonality.

"I noticed you went down the Sandwich shop"
"Um, Yes. Yes I did."
"What did you have"
"Tuna Mayo"
"Oh" his faced darkened. "I dont like that"
What could I say, I shrugged.
"Ham. Thats what I like".
"I really have to go. See you later".

The others thought it was either funny or harmless. Me, less so. He started leaving little gifts. 99p pot plants are the ones I remember. Again, not really sure what to do. It was when he started asking me where I lived and what bus I took home, is when I started to become really alarmed so told my supervisor. With frightening speed she "had a word" and things stopped.

Presumably you were expecting him to be ringing my doorbell and tracking down my parents, but it was nothing like that. It wasn't dramatic or anything, and nothing really happened, for which I am thankful. It was just un-nerving and I feel a bit well guilty really for even drawing attention to it, but then I read that story the other day about that German bloke who got infatuated with this girl on the internet and think it could have been a lot nastier. Must happen to assistants a lot though, and nurses, support workers and the like. I am suprised we never really had any training about it.