Overqualified: Stalking is so commercial now!


To: Human resources, Hallmark Cards
Re: Only sixteen shopping days left

Thank you for taking the time to review my resume. I havenít got any experience with greeting cards or with graphic design. But this morning it occurred to me that you need a new holiday. Motherís day is fine, but some of us have lost our mothers. Not everyone has someone share their life with, Hallmark. But we all have one thing in common. We all have strangers on the edges of our lives.

We can all be secret admirers. Look around the next time youíre at the mall. Or look online. Social networking sites. The Internet is full of people to secretly admire. Thereís a girl who makes detailed maps of her neighbourhood and she knows a boy who hates Allen Ginsberg - except for one line that he thinks is perfect. He has crooked eyes and takes all these pictures of balls bouncing. That is his obsession, bouncing rubber balls. He knows a girl who, in every picture, is pulling her shirt up to show off her belly. She's all like, "What's up? A camera? Yeah yeah. Let me get my belly out." She looks so happy just to be here. She knows a trashy girl in a tank top, wearing a little too much makeup, out drinking with her sorority friends in every picture. She has bleached blonde hair and only one interest. Carnival of Souls (1962).

What ever happened to secret admirers? Are they just stalkers now? If you notice someone, if you pay too much attention, that's weird. All of a sudden you're that guy who sits on the bench in the mall, right in front of the store where she works and stares inside all day. Or, worse, you're the guy who keeps going in. The guy with the Orange Julius who keeps saying, "I'm just browsing."

But I love writing notes to strangers.

"You have the best laugh I have ever heard. The only thing I know about you is that you work with maps and you always take the second straw from the dispenser - I do that too!"

And I donít think Iím alone, Hallmark.

International Stalker Day. I have to go decorate my room.

Joey Comeau