For the past two (or has it been three, or even four?) years, I've had a stalker.
No, there is no one standing in the yard, peeping in the windows, or going through my trash. I'm not receiving cryptic letters filled with threatening and garbled love, nor do I have to be careful not to go out alone.
As many of you may know, I'm a Doctor Who fan. I have four sonic screwdrivers, a fair number of T-shirts and other Who-themed clothing, and I won a cosplay contest with my Tom Baker outfit. And my license plate is TRDIS, because someone, most likely someone in Los Anchorage, has the license plate with the A that I need. There's a K-9 hanging from my rearview mirror, and for a couple winters my radiator cover was the classic TARDIS blue policebox lettering: Public Call Box POLICE. There are a few other clues on the car that tell those in the know that this car is owned by a Whovian.
So the first time someone left me a note under my windshield that said, simply, BAD WOLF, I laughed! Cool!
And then it happened again, and again. In fact, all around town, I never know when I'm going to come back to my car to find either a note on paper, or Bad Wolf written in the grime on the windows, or the side of the car (in Fairbanks all of us have dust on our cars, it's Alaska).
And I LOVE IT.
Who-ever you are, it always makes my day! Thanks!
PS: if you ever decide to reveal your identity, maybe we could have tea?
Until then, ALLONS-Y!
