Once upon a time, nearly two years ago, I went out a couple of times with a guy I met on Nerve, Christopher. I was always on the fence about him because he wasn't a particularly warm guy nor was he physically my type, but he was smart enough and had a dry sense of humor and good taste in music and I didn't really have anything else going on so we continued to hang out. Then he stopped being interested in me, wouldn't return calls, so I guess I was essentially dumped.

After I moved to Brooklyn and we hung out a few times as friends, but he was just so cold it was hard to do. Still, I hooked up with him one more time after that, but then I didn't see him again for a while and I really didn't care. We never had sex, I should mention. I was never particularly inspired to do so, which should give you an idea of how little I was attracted to him, because let's face it, in my younger days (yes I know two years ago I was not that much younger, but work with me), I was pretty easy.

Then I started dating this other guy, this young musician, and one night when I went to go see his band play at the now defunct Right Bank, I saw Christopher there. I hung out with him a little bit that night but of course I went home with the guy I was dating.

The next morning I got an email from him. In it he talked about how hot my ass looked in my jeans and then essentially offered to rent me for a weekend, paying me with drugs and alcohol.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt, that he was fucked up when he sent me the email. I should have slammed him then, but for whatever reason, I didn't. I just told him that I wasn't really looking to play around anymore, that I was looking for something a little bit more serious in my life, that it might do him some good to look for something more in his life. He then sent me an email apologizing for his behavior, and told me we couldn't be friends anymore. I sent him an email replying, "Like that was an option."

Since that time I've received a succession of filthy emails from him, probably one every few months, always in the wee hours of the morning, probably when he is completely out of his mind on coke, because he is a pathetic, aging Williamsburg hipster loser who still thinks it's cool to get high out of his mind every weekend. There is always some vague allusion to money and how he wants to fuck me. (The email I received this morning at 2 am said something about being willing to sell things in order to lick my large breasts.) A few times I've replied and told him to stop and seek help, but he doesn't seem to hear me. I blocked him on my personal email, so this last time he sent it through Friendster, and now I will block him again.

My sense is that I am probably not the only person who receives these emails. (Yes, it is true. I am not that special.) That he casts the net wide and far in his harrassment. It gets him off to talk dirty to women even if they don't respond, or my guess is, because they don't respond. He can be anonymous in a way (even though I know who it is coming from), because he doesn't have to see my face. It is the electronic equivalent of an obscene phone call. It is pathetic.

I am one step away from removing his anonymity. I am sick and tired of him getting off at my expense. No one should have to receive emails like that, and he just doesn't seem to be stopping. So I am sending him this as a message, wakeup call, warning - if the emails to me (and I would presume other women) don't stop, I will out your ass online. I will post your picture, the name of the publication where you work, your last name, your address, and I will ask as many people as I know online to link to it. I will make it not fun for you anymore, and I will make it very fun for me.

For god's sake, pull it together, you asshole.

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