#5 Toby Rodgers at my Denny's

There is a Denny's not too close to my house but it's the one me and my family go to the most. I think it is the closest we have near us. I can't recall when exactly I noticed him but I might've been 11. That was also, coincidently, the age I was super into creepypasta. So, when I saw this tall lanky white guy waitering at my Denny's something in me clicked. He looked eerily similar to my third favorite creepypasta: Ticci Toby. I am pretty sure I immediately freaked out. He had the hair: brown, fluffy, and messy. His slight hunch and the way he spoke. I felt like all those prayers I used to whisper, kneeled by my bed, in snot and tears, had come true. Ignoring the fact he was probably in his twenties and I was...well, 11. 

I had a bad staring problem. Okay, I still have a bad staring problem. I just love looking at people. I find it kind of sad to imagine living life just looking down at your shoes or straight ahead only at what concerns you. The whole world concerns me. Anyways, that meant I would follow him around the diner with my eyes, obsessively. I honestly feel kind of bad about that, all these years later. I have definitely creeped out dozens of people who fell victim to my staring problem. Little tween me didn't have the self awareness I do now though, so she felt no shame. Just weird and gross hormonal-caused obsession. It started to become something I looked forward to. Whenever my dad asked where we wanted to eat that weekend, my answer was always the same. He didn't always wait our table, of course. But that was of no bother to me. If anything, it was better that way. 

I want to say my parents never noticed my wandering eyes, but I mostly just tell myself that for sake of avoiding the crippling embarrassment I'd get if I find out they did. Who I think did notice, was the victim himself.

He interacted with his coworkers a lot. When he walked around the counter that led into the kitchen, I could hear his laugh. Which I grew to recognize after hearing it so often (...creepy). Who he laughed with, though, made my face feel hot and stiff. Other girls. Well, women actually. But when you're 11 and have a crush on an unsuspecting male, any women he talks to is an enemy who is at your level. Sometimes, seeing him talk with other waiters would send a reality check down my spine but it'd also ruin my day. He showed up in dreams I had and, like I usually did when I was having some kind of major limerence psychosis, I would cry and have a mental breakdown under my covers that God always made love so inaccessible to me. It just wasn't fair!

I'm Not entirely sure how long this phase of my life lasted, but there are two major days that changed everything.

First: he touched me. Not in a sexual way! (That would have been ethically wrong and even for my insane tween mind way too much to comprehend.) By this time, I was starting to dress like a boy. I had a short (terrible...) haircut and I wore knee-length khaki shorts with everything. It did complicate my attraction to men because I didn't feel like I was gay, but I also didn't feel any less attracted to dudes. Onto the event, it was day and we were at Denny's. Riveting stuff. My typical order used to be that "Moons over my hammy" sandwich. It was actually super good, maybe I should start ordering that again... So, I can say with little doubt that was probably what I ordered. We ate our food and this day, I didn't really stalk my Toby Rodgers look alike with the intensity I used to, weeks before. All was well in Choffi land after all! I was becoming normal! Then the bill comes. It comes right from behind me and it's hand grabs my shoulder.

"So, you're paying, right?"

I must have looked like an actual retard the way my entire body went rigid and all the blood in my face disappeared. He was touching me. His hand was on my shoulder. His hand was big but more on the bony side. It felt like a boulder against my bones. I don't remember if it was cold or warm, but my senses are telling me it was cold. The joke hardly registered to me. My parents laughed and I think he made another comment about it before actually looking down at me and saying, 

"I'm just joking."

Dizzy is an understatement. My jaw was spasming and as we got up to leave I felt such little strength in my knees that I could barely walk straight. There's almost like a hall to the exit of the diner. Except the "walls" in question are a parallel line of booths on either side of the walkway. Everything was swirling, it felt like the longest fucking walk of my life. I didn't know whether to thank God for the way his fingertips pressed against my collarbone, the flat of his palm, how close he was to the nape of my neck... or to curse him for giving me such a huge dose of this damned drug when I had started to slowly ween off of it. I thought about it everyday for weeks. We didn't go back to Denny's for like a month after that.

Two: He quit/fired or changed locations. Though, I am betting on quit.

Yeah, there isn't much to say about this one except I absolutely noticed. He wasn't there every time I went, because that isn't how a job works, but his absence was as plain as day. Even with no way to confirm and the possibility he just wasn't on shift, I could feel that it was more than that.

With all these 7 years that have passed since I first saw him, he most definitely is gone forever. From that Denny's, at least. Just like he left, my obsession has too. Not that I am necessarily healthier than I was at age 11, but I have gotten better in... certain aspects. Limerence being one of them! Though, sexuality is a whole different can of worms that right now I'm letting sit on the shelf for the time being. Now, here is my final words to my schizo love.

Dear, Toby Rodgers at my Denny's

Thanks for being fap material for so long and sorry for being such a creep. I constantly had fantasies of you lowkey* raping me but I was also 11 so I am not actually that sorry. This stage in my life has affected the person I am today, for better or worse. Thanks.

Lukewarm regards