Written Warning

The One Weakness of the Witch

by apoxuponme

(note: everything in this story is 100% true)

Back in the bleak days of 1999, when I was an assistant manager at a video game store, I experienced a thing that I think we all have at least once in our brief lives. No, I am not talking about homosexual experimentation, I am speaking of the creepy woman that has a crush on you but is too messed up and socially retarded to do anything about it.

Let me paint the mind picture for you of this so-called woman:

Christine: A woman in her mid 30’s, well over 300 pounds, never worked a day in her life, black hair constantly in need of a shampoo and perhaps even a flea dip, always wearing nothing but black and thick glasses (black rims, of course). To top it off, make this woman a Wicca. Yes, people: a witch, in all manners of the word.

I still have no idea why she picked me to be her personal love monkey. We had nothing in common at all! She was into live journaling, sad poetry and donuts; at the time, I was into angry grunge music, smoking weed and avoiding her at all costs! In fact, the only thing that I knew about witches at the time was that they were made of wood.

She would constantly ask for weird things and saying the spookiest stuff to me. Here are a couple examples that I can remember:

“My friend just killed himself. My husband told me it was my fault.”

“Can I have a picture of you? I want to use it for a good luck spell.”

“Call an ambulance, I have an inflamed bladder.”

Well, the dream job couldn’t last forever. The video game store closed down and I was unemployed. But, the good news was that I would never see Christine again… Or would I?

I quickly regained my title of “employed” as a cook at the local internet café where my friend Paco and I used to hang out after work. Much to my dismay, my whereabouts were deduced by Christine and she began hanging out at the bar and weirding me out at every possible opportunity. Damn it! How did she find me? My best guess is that she cast a location spell in her basement which involved sacrificing a goat and arranging its entrails into symbols and patterns to find out where I was because that sounds cool and will hopefully attract the attention of some Hollywood scriptwriter looking online for ideas for a new Blair Witch movie which could potentially make me millions in copyrights. It could happen.

So, this is where it starts getting really creepy. After work at 1:30am I would ride my bike home and notice a dark figure sitting on one of the guard rails at the end of the bridge near my home… It was her! She was waiting for me by the side of the road to come home at 2 in the morning! I decided to do much like that kid in The Shining did and just say to myself “I didn’t really see that.” and just rode by, ignoring her. These bridge visits became a thing that started to happen so often that I would be surprised if I didn’t see her when I came home; if Christine wasn’t at the café when it closed, she would be waiting to see me ignore her at the end of the bridge.

By this time, my friends Pacco and Liz knew everything about this from me and did their best to keep away from Christine when at the cafe. One time, Liz actually got followed home by Christine. I figure she thought that Liz and I were dating and wanted to know where she lived, in case I ever went to her house instead of mine. Seriously, this was getting to be a little scary.

This was all happening in 1999, and the movie Stigmata had just come out. I made the mistake of saying to someone in the bar that I might check it out. I didn’t know it, but Christine had quietly moved from the corner of the bar to right beside me when I said this. (This, by the way was a true gift of hers. Even though she was big enough to take up 2 barstools, she could be as quiet as a ninja if she wanted to.)

Her: “I want to see that too! I mean, if you want to see it and so do I, then, I mean we could both go and see it.”

Me: “I don’t know, Chris… Um, I gotta go.”

This was Christine’s idea of me asking her to go out on a date with me. In her mind, we were to meet at the bar on Tuesday night to go see the movie together. I never showed, and in fact went to see The Green Mile instead with Liz.

A few days later:

Her: “Why did you see the Green Mile?”

Me: “What? You’re asking me WHY I saw a movie? I wanted to!”

Her: “But, you still want to see Stigmata, right?”

Me: “Not really. It actually looks kinda shitty. I don’t think I will ever want to see that movie.”

Her: “Well, maybe we can see it sometime?”

Me: “I don’t know, Chris… Um, I gotta go.”

Fast forward about a week later. Paco comes in to the kitchen one night with a “you really don’t want to hear what I am about to tell you, but I am going to really enjoy telling it to you!” look on his face that only a friend can have and says “I just had a very interesting talk with Chris”. He explains to me that Christine spent 20 minutes telling him about how I was “the love of her life” and eventually I would realize this through further constant attention. She knew that Paco would come and tell me this. Damn it! If only she would come to me to tell me her true feelings so I could tell her to go fuck herself and die, this thing could all be over.

That same night, Christine, in one of her trademark ninja moves, materializes in the kitchen without warning and tells me as she giggles and averts her eyes:

“I wanted to tell you that I have a crush on someone that’s in the bar right now.”

I get really weirded out at this point. Keep in mind that this particular café was never busy and the only people in the place at the time were Liz, the bartender, Paco, Christine, myself and a few other non-regulars. This was her attempt at telling me her feelings through immature high school methods. I am starting to really hate this woman and her stupid ways. This morbidly obese woman was paying so much attention to me I felt like I was wearing a friggin’ ham around my neck!

Then, an hour later, minutes before closing time:

“I want to talk with you. I will be waiting at your bike. Bye.”

Holy shit! I have to get home somehow. My bike is the only way. How did she know where I locked up my bike? No!

Have you ever seen the movie “Prince of Darkness”? There’s a scene where people start having dreams of Satan coming out of a church and there’s this very scary dark figure that’s supposed to be the devil coming out with white light behind him; that’s what I saw waiting for me at the end of the alley where I lock up my bike.

After nearly soiling myself, Christine does her best to tell me she loves me:

Her: “I trust you spoke with Paco…”

Me: “Yeah.”

Her: “… And you know that I had a crush on someone in the bar… I imagine that you know who that person is now, right?”

Me: “Um… Well, Chris, I am not looking for a relationship right now… I am a bit odd. You know... Like, it’s not about you on this one. I am just someone who... I just don’t want a relationship right now. Igottagobye!” And with that I took off on my bike like someone had just shot a starter pistol into the sky… I can’t believe I had to use the “its not you, its me” routine on this cow!

I had to think of something to destroy this monster. Murder was out of the question, because I knew her witch-spirit would just haunt me and I would eventually go crazy. The only weakness that I knew about this witch was that she would get totally embarrassed if anybody ever swore at her. She hated that. Keeping that in mind, a few days go by with no incidents and the weather gets too cold for the bike ride to work and I am now walking to work. Then, it happened.

While at work, Christine does a ninja move and is suddenly beside me in the kitchen:

Her: “Um. I was wondering if… I… Um… could (giggle)… Walk home with you after work tonight (giggle).”

Me: “Walk home with me? No, I don’t think so.”

Her: “Why not?”

Me: “Because I… Have other plans. I am not going home after work. I am going out. Don’t do this, Chris. Don’t do that. I don’t fucking want to walk home with you. Fuck!”

With this, she wandered away to a dark corner, embarrassed about being sworn to. About an hour later, she returns with the only solution she could think of (I swear to you this is what she said to me):

“Well, you are going to walk home and so am I and if I walked just behind you, like, about ten feet behind, then you would still be by yourself, but I would be with you behind you and you wouldn’t know. That’s okay by you, right?”

Me: “Oh………. Please don’t do this Chris. Holy shit, Chris.… I think you should go home right now. I am NOT going home after work! Please don’t follow me home tonight. Please don’t do this. I AM GOING OUT WITH PEOPLE! PEOPLE!!! Please Oh God, please don’t follow me home. Go home! Holy fuck!”

She didn’t go home. She waited for closing time. I spent the rest of the night very worried about this, trying to find something, anything to do after work so I wouldn’t have to walk home. Then, my salvation, my joy, Paco, who had a car, walked in to the bar and quickly the plans were made to catch last call at the Poacher’s Arms after work with Liz and her friend. Thank you Jesus, I have actual plans!

Christine was of course still waiting for me outside at 1:00am on the sidewalk when the bar closed, hoping that I would be “walking home with her but not really walking home with her”. We all quickly got the hell out of there and ran off to catch last call.

I ended up having a great time that night. I spent the evening smoking weed, drinking beer and attempting to convince Liz’s friend to have sex with me even though her long term boyfriend was sleeping in the next room. Good times. I didn’t get home until 5 in the morning and Chris was nowhere to be seen on my way home.

About 4 hours into my shift the next night at the cafe, Christine does a ninja move and is there beside me asking me:

“How late were you out last night? (Giggle)”

(Sense of dread welling in my mind) “…Why?”

“Well. (giggle). I waited for you to come home last night, and when you didn’t come home at your normal time, I got a little tired and actually fell asleep under the bridge! (giggle, giggle, giggle)”

At this very moment, I experienced what I like to call “total fucking release”. A point where all the shit that this bitch did for the past 6 months gathered in my brain and began to release the most fowl, shameful, humiliating, offensive words that a human being can express to someone in a public place. I might have even been speaking in tongues at some points:

“I cant believe you did that… Oh my god… Why would you do that?!”

“Well… I…”

“I don’t even give a shit why you did it! Christine, you’re fucked up!”

“(giggle, giggle, giggle)”

Christine is getting embarrassed. I use that to my advantage:

“I actually cant believe that you would NOT ONLY DO THAT, BUT ACTUALLY FUCKING COME TO ME TO TELL ME THAT YOU DID THAT IN HOPES THAT I WOULD FOR SOME FUCKED UP REASON BE SOMEHOW IMPRESSED BY IT!!! CHRISTINE, YOU ARE FUCKED UP!!!”

“(giggle, giggle, giggle)”

She begins to walk away at this point. I follow her down the hallway towards the bar, now within earshot of any patrons:

“WHY DO YOU DO THAT KIND OF SHIT? FUCK!!! YOU'RE FUCKED UP, CHRIS! FUCK, YOU ARE FUCKED UP! YOU ARE TOTALLY FUCKED UP. HEY! CHRIS! HEY, BY THE WAY! YOURE FUCKED UP!”

I storm back to the kitchen, figuring she would finally leave after being so embarrassed. A few minutes later, still fuming, I went out the bar to deliver some glasses. Christine was still at the bar, which was kind of crowded with other people, with head lowered, still giggling.

“WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING STILL DOING HERE? I CANT BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!!! DO YOU THINK THAT I AM STILL GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AFTER WHAT YOU JUST TOLD ME? YOURE FUCKED UP, CHRIS! FUCK, YOU ARE FUCKED UP! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY DID THAT!!! YOURE FUCKED UP, CHRIS!! YOU NEED SERIOUS MEDICAL ATTENTION!!! IN FACT, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!! YOU NEED TO GO AWAY!!! FAR AWAY!!! FAR FUCKING AWAY, CHRIS!!!......GO AWAY!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ARE STILL HERE!!! FUCKED UP, YOURE FUCKED UP, CHRIS! YOURE FUCKED UP! FUCK, YOU ARE FUCKED UP! HEY, EVERYBODY! I AM TALKING TO THIS WOMAN HERE, HER NAME IS CHRISTINE AND SHE JUST TOLD ME THAT SHE FELL ASLEEP UNDER A BRIDGE NEAR MY HOME BECAUSE SHE LOVES ME AND SHE’S…STILL…HERE!!! CHECK HER OUT!!! SHE’S FUCKED UP!!!”

I think she was crying at this point, but I didn’t care and I took off back to the kitchen. When I returned to the bar, she was gone.

She never returned to the café after that and I was no longer bothered by Christine the Witch again. I guess she finally understood that I was not the one for her. I became a temporary hero at the bar when the story became legend among the nerdy regulars and then eventually... sadly… the world moved on.

And that is how you get rid of a witch that is stalking you.

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