This is not about someone I have dated, but a cautionary tale about what can happen when you are too friendly with internet strangers.

A month into my first post-college job, I received a LinkedIn message from a complete stranger named Alan. I had been working at an outdoor therapeutic program for troubled teens, and he said he wanted to learn more about it. Though at the time I ignored most emails (I only had 2 days a week to catch up on laundry, emails, and bills), I felt passionate about my work and wanted to get others “involved in the cause,” so I responded earnestly about the job, and offered that if he ever had any additional questions to reach out. Shortly after, he friended me on Facebook, and I didn’t think anything of it.

Years passed while I continued to do the same type of work from North Carolina to Georgia to Hawaii. Alan created a LinkedIn group for Eckerd counselors, so I assumed that he had started working for them (which I later found out was not the case).

Over the years, he was a very active Facebook friend, ‘liking’ and thoughtfully commenting on my infrequent posts.
One time while I was on the Big Island, a friend posted WHERE ARE YOU?? on one of my social media channels, so he took it upon himself to reply (based on my previous posts and pictures) She is working on the Big Island in Hawaii at a horticulture therapy program for teens.

I didn’t mind that he acted as if he knew my every move, because at the time, a great big ocean separated me from him.

Fast forward to 2012: springtime in Austin. I had just moved back and was riding the highs of being in such an endlessly stimulating city. I had missed everyone and everything. I ran into old acquaintances everywhere, made new friends effortlessly, and when I saw people I vaguely remembered at the grocery store I would run full speed ahead to try to get a crash course on the last 8 years of their life, not saying goodbye before inviting them to a CouchSurfing potluck

As pictured below:

There was even a brief period of my life where I lived for the weird-ass Sunday night drum circles outside of Barton Springs. Movers, shakers, and homeless people: my emotional limits were boundless, and I wanted to be friends with everyone.

One Saturday, I was on a morning skate and rolled right down to the Zilker Kite festival. Drunk on the beauty of Austin in the Springtime, I snapped a photo, posted it to Facebook, and carried on.

A girl stopped me to ask if she could take my photo for some Austin style listicle, and I willingly agreed. Another guy asked the same, and I didn’t even ask what for, but I agreed. I was a yes woman.

Side note: the pictured longboard is THE longboard that got me in trouble with the Craigslist Shark

I got so carried away making friends that I almost forgot I made plans to go support a friend’s soft launch of his new BBQ restaurant, which would be held at his house. A random guy on a scooter asked if I wanted to hitch a ride uphill, and I accepted, as I was open to everything the universe had to offer, and I needed to get home quick. As I was being towed uphill, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and noticed several missed calls and a voicemail from an unknown number. I assumed it was just my friend, Davey, calling from another number, so I didn’t think any more of it.

Davey: What’s your ETA?
Me: Running late! Can you text me the address?
D: Sent u FB invite. Its on there

There were some Facebook messages from Jason that I ignored as I opened the event page for the Fire & Soul pre-opening party. I clicked “going” under the RSVP, thanked the kind man for the ride, ran inside to change, and then got in my car to head to the party.

On the way there, I listened to the voicemail:

Hi Mandy, this is Jason. I saw you’re at the Kite Festival… and I just got here, and would love to meet up. If not now, at least let me take you to get a drink, or something. Call me back.

At that moment I realized that I had naively listed my phone number on Facebook (which, until then, I thought was a really convenient feature!), so as soon as I parked my car at the house, I went to delete my digits from my profile.

Walking into the party, Davey met me and began to introduce me to his friends. The first was a small blonde girl named Sarah.

Sarah: Oh! Youre Mandy!
Me: Yep!
Sarah:<calling over her shoulder to her sister> Hey, Mandy’s here!

Her sister broke from her conversation and curiously walked over.
Me: <puzzled>
Sarah: Your friend has been here looking for you
Me: Oh, yeah? well I told Davey I was running late
Sarah: No, your friend Jason is here.
Me: Oh, haha sorry guys. I guess I’m not that Mandy.
Sarah: Oh.<Expectant silence>

Something told me she still believed I was ‘that Mandy’. And a wave of panic came.

Me: I mean this is going to sound weird, but there is this guy named Jason who I don’t really know ? But that would be way too weird?

Sarah and her sister leaned in closer with shocked faces.
Sarah: <scream whispering> No, I think that sounds right. He showed up right at 4 when we were still setting up, and he said he was here to see Mandy.

Me: Is he a bald white guy?
S & S: YES!

I noticed it was 6:30 pm. He had been there for 2.5 hours! These poor girls.
I quickly filled them in on his LinkedIn activity, his diligence in keeping up with me on Facebook, and about him showing up at the Kite Festival immediately after I had posted a picture. They sympathized with me, and by the end of my story I had a whole barricade of women ready to protect me. They coordinated my movements so that I wouldn’t have to see him or interact with him. Women are truly incredible creatures.

That lasted for maybe 20 minutes, when I finally mustered the courage to venture towards the food spread. He showed up behind me, and I pretended not to see him.

Jason: Mandy?
Me: Um, hello

I pretended that I didn’t know who he was, but being a terrible actress, I knew that he knew that I knew.

Obviously J-sn: Its me, Jason

At that age, my natural defense mechanism against being uncomfortably targeted by a man was to play dumb and inattentive. I believed it better to go-along and get-along rather than to hurt someone’s feelings. I never asked him why he thought it was okay to follow me somewhere, but I was starting to gather that he was not great at social cues.

Me: Ohhh right Hey! I guess its good to meet you, like in person?

Trying to be polite, I made small talk, and then quietly excused myself from the party. I blocked him as soon as I got home.

The next morning I had a Linkedin message from him:

Mandy, are you okay? What happened to your facebook page?

Then, my mom called and left an eerie voice message:
Someone just sent me a message and is concerned about you. Did you delete your Facebook? Are you okay?

Months later, my little brother messaged me:
So uh your stalkers name was Jason, right? I just met a guy at the UT co-op who saw my last name on my ID, and he was like do you know Mandy? Tell her “Jason says hi“.

Thinking he was pulling a prank on me/ drawing out the joke a little too long, I laughed it off.

That is, until I checked my LinkedIn messages to find a handful of odd messages, including this last one:

I still believe we should assume the best of strangers, but not without a little caution. Embrace life, but take it easy, or you could end up at a kite festival with a modern-day stalker.