I hear it's possible to find true love on public transit

Want proof that I've been attracting freaks for ages? Let's travel back in time to college days -- more than a decade ago.

I was home for the summer, taking public transit to the mall for work. One day as the train neared my stop, a guy about my age approached. He was attractive and bold - I gave him my number as soon as he asked for it then jumped off the train, knowing he'd call that evening.

He did, and we made plans to meet up the next day. He suggested that we rendezvous outside a relatively popular downtown store. When I arrived at the appointed time, Dante was nowhere to be seen. Irritated (but certainly not devastated) that I'd been stood up, I caught the bus back home. Almost immediately after walking into the house, the phone rang. Dante wanted to know where I'd been - he'd been outside the store waiting for me; why would I stand him up? Umm... what?!? After a bit of confusion, we realized that I'd been at one location of the store and he'd been at the other.

Surely we could try again and get it right this time? Plan #2 was to meet on the top floor of the mall where I worked, in the food court and just outside the movie theater. We couldn't possibly miss each other this time, could we? We could. We did. He wasn't there. (Remember that this is pre-cell phones, so unlike today when I might text someone to say "where are you," we didn't have a mechanism for finding each other except to be at the appointed place at the appointed time.) So, I went home. And, again, the phone was ringing just moments after I walked into the house. Again, he couldn't find me - where had I been?

Now, I'm no fool. I realized that this was RIDICULOUS. And I told Dante as much. In fact, I told him that I just didn't care enough about someone I'd just met to continue to playing this stupid game. I wasn't having fun, and I was done. He begged for a third chance, arguing that "the third time's the charm." So non-fool that I am, I agreed to allow him to put in some effort to meet me, but I refused to put forth any of my own effort. It just so happened that there was a bench in the mall right outside my store. I told him what time I got off work the next day and told him that if he was sitting on that bench at that time, I'd be willing to see him. Otherwise, he could forget about it.

Guess who wasn't sitting on the bench the next day?

But guess what was ringing within minutes of me arriving at home? Bet you can't guess who was calling...

Mmmhmmm. Dante. But this time, he didn't pretend that he'd been there. Nope. This time he wanted to confess something...

The day I met him on the train, he'd been on his way to the police station. He was turning himself in to complete his sentence (something about "a couple of kilos - no big deal"). He'd been calling a friend collect and having that friend use 3-way calling to get me on the phone. THE WHOLE TIME. He wanted to see me, and he wanted to be able to meet up with me; he simply couldn't do it the traditional way. Could I maybe visit him at the jail instead?

Sigh.

I didn't go. But I confess that I did give him my address so we could correspond. He wrote me the craziest letters about how women were like popsicles. He'd tried a lot of flavors but finally found the one he liked best. I'd met him for 5 minutes. I never responded to his letters. He continued to write for at least a year. When he got out, he tried to call - over and over and over again. He finally stopped when a friend of mine made some kind of threatening "don't ever call my friend again" call to him.

Flypaper for Freaks. That's me, folks.