Acosadora

This post is also available in: Spanish

It’s never nice breaking up with somebody but I had made my mind up. After six months in a very intense relationship, I decided to break free from Susan. I chose a bar in the city centre of Dublin in which to carry out the necessary deed. So, after twenty long minutes with Susan, I finally plucked up the courage to share my thoughts with her. I explained to her that it wasn’t her, that it was in fact me. Classic! The tears started to flow but thankfully she seemed to accept the sudden turn of events. One moment you have a boyfriend, the next you don’t. I walked her to a taxi and made sure that she got in okay. It was the least I could do. What a relief! She wasn’t five seconds out of sight when I got on the mobile to my mate Ken and he came to the centre to help me celebrate my new found freedom. I had a great night with Ken without realizing that Susan had been looking for me in practically every bar in the centre. I only found this out a few days later. Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed me at the back of one of the bars. Lucky for me!

The next day, a Sunday, I was sitting on the sofa with my family spending a typical pre-work day in front of the TV. Suddenly, we all heard the doorbell. It was very unusual to have a visitor at this hour. I had a small heart attack when my brother informed me that it was Susan at the door. She had come by taxi. Of course, she wanted to talk. I didn’t. I didn’t want to talk but I did the humane thing and invited her in for a cup of tea. What a mistake! She told me that I was confused and that I would soon see that we were supposed to be together. I didn’t agree with her. That didn’t matter to her. I drove her back to her house. It was difficult to make her get out of the car but with some kind words, I convinced her. This was only the beginning of my difficulties with Susan.

The following weeks were an absolute nightmare. She turned up unannounced in several bars and I still don’t know to this day how she knew I’d be in each random bar. GPS trackers hadn’t even been dreamt of let alone invented in the year 2000, well as far as I know. One time I was on the dance floor in a club in my local area that I rarely frequent, bopping happily away, when I was bumped into by somebody on the floor. Not normally getting much physical attention on the floor, I turned around to see none other than the famous Susan staring straight at me with her cat green eyes through the smoke and strobe lights. It was like a scene from a horror movie. I tried to make a hasty retreat, but she seemed to have anticipated my every move. She was at the top of every stairway and in front of every exit. I finally found a gap past her and hurtled into it before she could get her claws into me. On the way out the door, I thanked her sarcastically for ruining my night out.

Possibly even more terrifying was the time I found her waiting for me outside my place of work. Being caught unaware, I allowed her to walk alongside me. During the painfully slow walk by the Liffey, she threatened to throw in a necklace I had bought her and several other small possessions. I told her that that would be silly. She didn’t throw anything into the Liffey that day but what unnerved me the most was her cold resolve that we would indeed be together again soon. Mercifully, she left me at the bus stop. Mind you, she hadn’t really left me at the bus stop, had she? I was continuously looking over my shoulder all the way home and her cat green eyes were ruining any chance I had of a good night’s sleep.

After about three months of this torture, she appeared in one of my favourite bars in town called Bad Bob’s and came straight over to confront me. My patience deserted me. I told her firmly to leave me alone and that I didn’t want to see her anymore. She proceeded to pour half a bottle of orange Bacardi Breezer down my shirt. I blurted out, “Great, that’s just great” as she disappeared stealthily into the crowd of party goers. Thinking that was the extent of the “fun and games” for the night, I started to relax with my now sticky shirt on me but needless to say, she popped up in front of me right in the middle of “One more time”, one of my fave songs at the time, which I happened to be singing at full pelt. Enough was enough. I absolutely lost it and roared at her to get lost. She smacked me. It came totally out of left field. My cheek was still reverberating as a circle of people seemed to form from nowhere around me. Their eyes seemed to be accusing me of some wrong doing on my part. Guilty before trial. If only they knew what had gone on before.

I never saw her again after that. Well, at least I think so. Once, I thought I saw her on the way to work and ducked instinctively behind a letter box. I believe she met a guy and has children now. For my part, I’ll keep ducking if it’s all the same to you, just to be on the safe side.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.