I received my first death threat a week or two ago. Given my personality, the most shocking thing about this is that it didn't happen sooner. In the made for TV movie about my life starring Shannen Doherty, I will have done something scandalous to earn this death threat, but in reality all I did was send an email.
My company is planning a large-scale event, and I denied a former client entry because the event was full. As it turns out, the client is barking batshit. Denying him entry to this event means that Canada's national security is at risk, because his attendance could save the "innocents." It's a matter of life or death, he's willing to do whatever it takes because he is a soldier, and he's not afraid to shed blood.
He won't be responsible for his actions, because anything bad that happens will be a result of my negligence. That much I had to translate from Latin, which makes him an incredibly pretentious fruitcake to boot.
Did I mention the event he's frothing at the mouth over will include a buffet lunch? It's amazing how fragile our sovereignty truly must be, if all you can eat soup and salad sends the country into mayhem.
I stopped joking around when I researched Nutbar McNutty online and found all kinds of pictures and video he's posted of himself shooting guns. On three separate social networking sites I found manifestos in which he refers to himself as "God/Visionary (one would think the visionary part would be redundant if one is actually God, but I'm not going to argue with crazy), and long rambling paragraphs describing his excellent marksmanship, his ability to terrify the police into inaction, and his willingness to commit violent acts in order to save the world.
Two things surprised me, not the least of which being the fact I've never been on a date with this person. He posted his longest manifesto on Plenty of Fish, and it's astonishing we haven't crossed paths until now, given my dating history. The second surprising thing being my own lack of concern.
It's not that I'm not concerned - I'm just not afraid. In fact, I feel sorry for this guy. He's young. He's only 23, which tells me this may be schizophrenia and he may have a long road ahead of him to get back on the rails. There's also an element of nothing bad will happen because stuff like this doesn't happen to people not already starring in made for TV movies.
Also, I'm just too tired for this shit.
Naturally I approached our building security, and the department responsible for overseeing emergency planning. The head of security told me to simply tell this guy to go away, and that there was nothing to worry about.
The other department suggested that if I had just accepted this guy's RSVP then this wouldn't be happening. Both areas warned me against going to the police, because "unless he specifically says he's going to shoot you, there's no threat, so probably just drop it."
I had to pass all of this information on to the organization who will be sponsoring and hosting this luncheon in partnership with my company, hoping to avoid any embarrassment that me getting machine gunned at the buffet line may cause.
Luckily, my co-host for this event is the Department of Fucking Awesome National Defence. (Notice the words "Fucking Awesome" are often absent in their promotional materials, but I assure you, they should totally be there from now on.)
The DFAND will be providing an armed escort for me and the other guests to this event, in case Nutbar McNutty shows up. The registration table where I'll be working will have military police standing on either side, just waiting for the slightest attempt to mess with my luncheon.
Whereas my own place of employment seemed happy to ignore me, the military police response is a little overwhelming and therefore embarrassing.
(While it's true I may have a certain fondness for men in uniform - and by certain fondness read: raging fetish, at no point have I wished for armed guards.)
(This may be happening because I only got through the self-help book The Secret's table of contents before declaring the book the stupidest thing I have never read and using it as a coaster from that point on. Apparently when asking the universe for a hot man in uniform, I should have been more specific. If nothing else, I should probably give Chapter One another go.)
(Also, I'd like to reiterate at this point that my fondness for men in uniform is not my fault. I watched Top Gun at the wrong time in my development, and this is what happened. I know for fact that pre-adolescent viewings of Top Gun made at least three of my friends gay, so it's little wonder I became a gay man. Sort of.)
The point is, all this attention is freaking me out. I argued with the officer responsible for coordinating the most heavily armoured luncheon ever planned that Nutbar wasn't going to show. There's no way he would show. He's even stopped sending me emails, presumably because he ran out of threatening Latin phrases, so any further action would hardly be necessary.
This is also what the powers that be at my organization had told me, so I felt if ever there was a time to tow the party line, it would be when on the verge of needing to coordinate my outfit with Kevlar.
The cop didn't think this would be the case at all. It's likely he'll show. I argued that Nutbar won't even know where to go, because we wouldn't be sending him any details about the venue.
Sadly, I had forgotten that our website had been updated with exactly those details just days earlier, and to his credit, the cop had already checked into this. At this point I'm sure the cop is thinking I may need to wear a helmet and kevlar all of the time, just to save me from my own stupidity.
Talking to this officer was reassuring, and troubling at the same time. I really want to think my mentally ill new friend has moved on to saving the world in other ways, or perhaps he realizes he's giving me way too much credit when blaming me in advance for the next world war.
There's also a part of me that hopes this guy shows up looking for free food and a fight. The other night Alex let me know he has a girlfriend, and it's serious. Alex seems...committed. He's dated other girls, but this is different. He feels so lucky to have this girl in his life, and there was nothing I could say but I'm happy for you.
So to the Nutbar I say this - just try it. I dare you. I'm coming with armed guards, a broken heart, and multiple viewings of Kill Bill Volumes One and Two. Now would not be the best time to save the world from me if I were you.
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