Night of the Sex Puma

Story Sent in by Tina:

Ryan wrote to me online.  I liked his message and his profile, and so we chatted long enough for him to ask me out on a date.  I had a busy week, and so the first date that I had open was a Saturday, about a week from when he had asked me.  We made it definite.

Strange things happened to me that week, starting on Tuesday, when a pile of mail arrived on my desk.  That wasn't the strange part.  What was strange was the folded note that arrived, sandwiched between two pieces of other mail.  It bore an image of a paw print and the words, "SEX PUMA GRRRRR."

Someone was playing a trick, I thought, or else it was meant for another person at my company.  I didn't think too much on it, and I threw it away.

The next day, Wednesday, I made it home from work to find a similar note in my own mailbox.  It had a similarly drawn paw print and the words, "SEX PUMA COMING.  GRRRRR."

That night, over the phone, I brought it up to Ryan.  He laughed and said that I had a secret feline admirer.  Having a vague feeling that it might have been him, I said, "As it's a puma, I'll have to set a trap for it."

He asked, "What sort of trap?"

I said, "I'll figure it out."

That Thursday, another note appeared in the mail at work.  It was kind of funny, but it wouldn't have been if my supervisor found out about it.  This time, the note said, "SEX PUMA COMING.  SEX PUMA HUNGRY.  GRRRR."

I knew that Ryan knew where I worked (I had told him during one of our conversations) and it was possible that he had looked up my address.  That night, I asked him point blank if he was the "sex puma."

"No!" he replied, "I'm more of a sex lion, but it's probably too early to think about that, you think?"

Diplomatist.  Anyway, one more note arrived, that Friday, in my own home mailbox.  It had two paw prints instead of one and read, "SEX PUMA IS HERE.  SEX PUMA IS READY.  GRRRR."

I was fairly convinced at this point that it was Ryan, and despite our decent rapport up until this point, I was ready to cut him loose if it turned out to be him.  They weren't really what I was hoping for from a date.  Still, he denied it, and I had no real evidence that it was him, save for the coincidental timing of our meeting.

That Friday evening, though, the night before our next day's date, everything became clear.  I was inside, watching a movie, when someone knocked at my door.  I opened it, and found Shawn Larson, one of my coworkers, standing at my door.  He and I were mostly acquaintances who talked every now and then.  He was younger than I was, and would have had access not only to my mailbox at work, but also to the company directory, which listed people's home addresses.

"Roar!" he said, and beat his chest.  "Can I come in?"

He had been drinking, and also seemed under the influence of other colorful substances.  I told him to go home and to not write me any more messages or else I'd report it at work.

He went home, never wrote me another puma message, and from then on at work, behaved as though nothing unusual had happened.

As for Ryan and I, we're still together.  As for whether or not he's a sex lion...