I just wanted to publicly share this, to say how outraged I am and that it’s not okay. No matter what you may think about someone, there is a time to share your thoughts, and there is a time not to. And I am making this public, and will publicize this person’s name and phone number if I have to, because I am not going to be intimidated by some psychotic asshole.
I have never had a stalker, and I say that in a “knock on wood” kind of way. Even when I was writing my dumb little sex column. I hope I don’t have one now.
Last night I was on the Upper West Side, having just had dinner with my mom and stepdad. I had a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize, and it was someone saying, “Hi Rachel, I’m on Sixth Avenue and thought of you. Give me a call.” I listened again and wasn’t sure if they said their name and it got cut off or didn’t give one. I have a relatively new cell phone so there are friends whose numbers still haven’t made it into my phone. I also never ever answer if I don’t know who’s calling.
“Hey – sorry to be rude but who Is this? Tx. Rachel”
Then a text, “Rachel, this Sunday come to Grand Army Plaza.”
I wrote again, “Who is this?”
The reply I got was, “A friend.”
I quickly figured out it was the asshole who sent me these two emails below, neither of which I responded to. We had corresponded about an article I was writing a few months ago (a non-sex related one) that wound up getting killed, which is how he had my number.
I hope you're doing well. I read an article this morning about the new babeland store opening up. It's right down the block from my front door, only a few storefronts away. Here it is: http://www.brownstoner.com/brownstoner/archives/2008/06/slope_babeland.php#comments
It made me want to invite you over to my place sometime soon, and have you bring along your favorite toy. I would help you use it by giving you a long backrub, footrub, brushing your hair, caressing your skin in long slow circles. And then to end everything we could use some baby oil on your chest and I'd put myself into your cleavage. Email me if this sounds like fun...I want it to be fun for both of us. You're really cool and I'm a little initimdated by you, and I'd like to see you again.
I saw you at Grand Army Plaza recently less than two weeks ago. It was a Monday I think: you were outside the stop checking your messages and I was exiting up the stairs. I thought, "Aren't you Rachel Kramer Bussel?" But you were making a phone call, and I didn't want to interrupt. You looked really thin. I read you were working out a lot and so I recognized you.
Anyway, I am into hearing from you...my number is 718-XXX-XXXX.
Immediately, I texted:
“Please don’t ever contact me again. Rachel”
He texted back, “But I saw your myspace tho.” and then called me from another 718 number and said something about hanging out and how we’re friends.
Well, I’ll say this: We are not friends and never will be. I think he is a crazy freak and am saving all his messages in case I need to go to the police. It’s highly disturbing to me that people think that for whatever their own fucked up, socially inept reasons, they can pull this shit on people, and by people, I mean women. It’s NOT okay and I think anyone contemplating such bullshit needs to be reminded of that.
And I won’t lie – my first instinct is to further remove myself from the “sex world" as some kind of preventative measure. I have already stated my issues with being known as a “sex writer,” but at the same time, if I capitulate to this stupidity, I am giving in to it, plus, I could never write another word about sex again and that really wouldn’t change the reality of what’s on the internet or some people’s inability to realize that women writing about sex do not and never will want to fuck you. I think it’s sad that this person can’t differentiate between common sense and stalker-like behavior. I am not done with sex writing and while I know people like this are in the minority, it's still utterly unnerving to have to deal with.
I hope this is the end of this drama, and it makes me ever more grateful for the sane people who can tell the difference between public and private, and can engage with intelligent, or even just titillating, discussions about sex and sex writing without devolving into behavior like this.