Oh, He Has A Disorder, All Right!

, , , | Romantic | February 6, 2020

NOTE FROM EDITORS: The grammar in this story has been kept purposefully incorrect.

 

(Have you ever worked with someone that NOBODY liked? It was a gut feeling we all shared from the moment he started. I felt bad for him in the beginning; imagine walking into work knowing everyone avoided you. I tried to be nice and make small talk but he always ruined it with a lecherous comment or a lingering stare, so I gave up. One day shortly after I quit, he texted me. I was surprised because I didn’t know he had my number and I didn’t know who would have given it to him. These messages are formatted exactly how he sent them.)

Coworker: “dinner tonight my place bring wine”

Me: “Who is this?”

Coworker: “[coworker] i got fired today [boss] is a b**** she doesn’t like me”

Me: “Oh I’m sorry. I’m actually married.” *which he knew* “I hope you find a job soon.”

Coworker: “but i got fired today cant you come over and comfort me”

Me: “No, that’s not really appropriate. How did you get my number?”

(I wait a day for a response and when he doesn’t reply, I block his number. A week I get a message from a new number.)

Coworker: “doc thinks i have [rare genetic disease] like u”

Me: “Who is this?”

Coworker: “[coworker] im using my friends phone Y arent u answering my texts”

Me: “How did you get my number?”

Coworker: “the dr is running tests to see if i have what u have”

(My genetic disorder is rare but has obvious “failure to thrive” signs at birth. The odds of him making it to his late 50s without a diagnosis are ridiculously slim. I’m suspicious.)

Me: “Best of luck with that. I truly hope you don’t have it.”

Coworker: “how did u no u had it”

Me: “I was diagnosed at birth.”

Coworker: “can u come over now tell be about it”

Me: “My husband and I could meet you at [Fast Food Place] when he gets off work.”

Coworker: “no just u please i need help”

Me: “Tell your doctor you’d like to speak to a therapist. I’m not going to meet you without my husband present and I doubt I could tell you anything your doctor wouldn’t know.”

Coworker: “please i need u”

Me: “I wish you well with [disease] but this is inappropriate.”

Coworker: “please help me”

Me: “Tell me how you got my phone number. Who gave it to you?”

Coworker: “I need to talk to u”

(I’ve had enough.)

Me: “If you contact me again, I’m calling the police.”

(Instead of waiting for a response, I blocked that number, too. No more new numbers contacted me so I thought that was it. Shortly after that, my husband was reading the paper when he asked what my coworker’s name was. I told him and he showed me a police report about the coworker. The same day I told him to stop, another girl had fallen for his helplessness — he told her he had cancer like her — and he tried to assault her. The girl escaped and he went to jail. I never did find out how he got my number.)

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