Eternal Weirdo Magnet

Have I ever told you about the guy who called himself 'Ace'?

In my first year and a half of university I worked part time as a silver service waitress (you might think that this would be a potentially disastrous job for someone with such an artful knack of knocking things over but I was actually pretty decent at it). I got to work at some cool events, like at Twickenham rugby stadium during a big England-vs-Somebody match, the Cheltenham races and the like- I can't remember everything I went to, this being seven odd years ago. Neither can I remember particularly enjoying the events because when you work in catering you're so rushed off your feet you can only concentrate on your job and nothing else.

One particular event that still stands out in my mind though was when I served in a box at the Tottenham Hotspur football grounds. I barely noticed the match because I was so busy looking after the family in the box (no big loss though, I don't even like football), I only vaguely took note of the slightly rude nature of the family (again no big deal- you get a lot of that when you're a waitress, silver service or not), but I did notice this one guy following me around- a fellow waiter.

I'll never know why he fixed his scarily determined sights on me. At first I thought it was just a coincidence that he went into the kitchens and came out at the exact same time as me, every time. I continued to think this right up until the second half of the match, when 'my family' had settled down and I went to stand outside- and he was there, waiting for me, having apparently followed me all the way to my box.

I can't for the life of me remember how the conversation began, but it was only a few pleasantries into the conversation until we introduced ourselves. This was how he introduced himself:

"You can call me Ace."

Not 'My name is Ace'. Not even 'My name's ___ but my friends call me Ace'. Just 'You can call me Ace.'

A few more pleasantries, and suddenly it became Speed Dating 101. The creepy version. Here are a few questions that he literally rattled off in quick succession at me that I can remember:

"How old are you?" (I'm not even kidding you, this was his very first question).

"Are you from around here?"

"Where do you live?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"What's your number?"

I considered giving him a fake number, until he told me he'd ring it then and there so my phone would have his number on record- so if I'd given him a fake one, he'd know right away as we both stood there.

Touché, 'Ace', touché.

He was also really tall, and really broad. Just slightly on the intimidating side. So when he said he'd come find me after our shifts to chat more, and I said thanks for the offer but I needed to get home quick, and he said not to worry and he'd be there to meet me in a flash, and I said firmly that I'd be going straight home, and he said he insisted and would be there waiting for me, I got a little nervous.

I made sure I'd cleaned up in record-fast time, and was eternally grateful that 'my family' hadn't made a mess of the box so there wasn't much for me to do, so I was able to dash out before 'Ace' got to my box. Once I was out, I checked my phone, marked his number as 'DO NOT PICK UP' (because if I'd merely deleted it I'd forget it was him and pick up if he ever called), had a laugh with my friends about it and promptly forgot about it.

A few months later I was in my student house with my two housemates and a friend (in fact one housemate and the friend were Lucia and Peter who got married recently), I got a call from the catering agency. Or so I thought.

"Hello, Natasha? This is Ace! How are you?"

"..."

After a pause that lasted for what seemed like forever, I hung up. At first I panicked and thought he'd contacted me through the agency- but the most likely situation is that my phone, an ancient Sony Ericsson, had switched the numbers. It had erased names from my phone while leaving the numbers behind before, so it's possible. In any case, I never heard from him again after that.

It's funny if you've read my blog up until this post, because you'll know that my luck with these sorts of encounters has not changed in the past seven years.

~Fin~