"A Dull Fog of Weirdness"

Story Sent in by Stefanie:

Dave was the hot guy who worked in my college mail room. I never had much need to go to the mail room window that he attended, but I was sure to find an excuse, every now and then ("How much are stamps today?" "You don't say!" "You think they'll cost the same, tomorrow?"). Maybe he found me annoying, but I didn't care. I was smitten.

As it turned out, I couldn't keep my mouth shut about him, I told a few close friends about my crush, and soon enough, everyone I walked by had a crack for me ("I've got a 'special delivery' for you..." "Where should I slip this 'package'?" "Mail or female? Ha ha ha!"). It was only a matter of time before he found out. I avoided the mail room for a little while.

What I didn't expect was for him to seek me out. As he was also a student, he had access to the cafeteria, and he approached me when I went up to grab a refill. I must have been shaking all over, but it wasn't out of fear for who might've been watching. I was just thrilled to be talking to him. I can't even remember what we talked about, but he got my number out of it.

Shortly thereafter, he called and asked me out on a date. I couldn't believe that my dream was coming true, and I spent the week leading up to it in a hazy, head-over-heels stupor.

The evening of the date, he met me in front of my apartment and we walked to what I thought was going to be a first date dinner.

I guess it was a dinner, but not what I was expecting. He walked me to the mail room, which he opened up with a key. It was dark inside, but he warned me against turning the lights on. "I'm not supposed to be here, now," he said, and he lit some candles that he must have planted there earlier. Romance in the mail room? Hmm. He then asked me what I wanted to eat, to pick any cuisine I wanted. I picked Thai, and he pulled out a Thai take-out menu from a stack. His plan was to order in, and we'd eat right there, surrounded by a few candles... in the mail room. Maybe it was silly, but I was expecting someplace different. On the other hand, though, at the time, it didn't matter. It was a bit thrilling to be in a place where we weren't supposed to be, and I was with a guy I really liked. Maybe this was his way of being creative.

He placed the order and asked me what I wanted to do until the food arrived. I asked him if there was a place to sit, and he cleared out a space on the filthy floor. We sat down on it together, he facing me, and he stared into my eyes in the flickering candlelight.

I must have said something like, "How was your day?" but he seemed more interested in staring at me.

"You have a beautiful face," he said, "I could look at it all day."

"Thank you."

"Is it okay if we just sit here and look at each other's beautiful faces and not say anything?"

"Uh... sure. I guess."

His face wasn't an unpleasant one, but the situation was creepy. The pleasant mist of adoration was evaporating into a dull fog of weirdness. Every time I went to talk, he said, "Shh," and kept looking at me. I tried making conversation about himself, his job in the mail room, the price of stamps, anything. But he did nothing but stare at me and occasionally blink, for a good 20 minutes.

His phone vibrated, and he stood. "Food's here," he muttered, as if angry to be kept away from his stare-fest. As he left the mail room, I followed close behind him, with the intent of perhaps finding a table or bench outside at which to sit and enjoy our dinner. But he turned to me and said, "Stay in here. Safer that way." He closed the door between us.

I wasn't locked in (the door would only prevent entry, not exit) and I opened it anyway and left the mail room. I found Dave at the front of the building, paying for our dinner. When he saw me, he asked, "How did you get out?"

With a sudden thud in my stomach, I said, "The door only locks from one side, I guess as a safety feature. You meant to lock me in? With stacks of paper? And candles?"

He looked around, as if for an exit. He held up the large paper bag of Thai food. "I have dinner. Let's return to the sanctum."

I replied, "Oh, no. That's not happening. You seriously meant to lock me in there? Seriously?"

He said, "And see what's happened, now that you're out? You're mad at something. I knew this would happen–"

"I'm mad at you! You meant to lock me in a mail room! Are you insane?"

He looked around again, for the stubborn mystery exit that just wouldn't show. He held up the food bag again and said, "Food. For us to share, together."

I said, "I'm not really comfortable with this. I'm sorry," and I left him standing there, food and all.

I avoided the mail room after that, during its open hours. The rumors and teasing stopped after a little while. For a short bit, my mail stopped showing up, and I made a complaint to the advisor of the resident hall, where the mail room was located. No further problems beyond that. But that was the end of my sweeping mail room romance.