Lately I’m reminded of how much I’ve grown in the last few years. Having roommates that are four years younger than myself serves as an almost constant reminder of what I’ve gained in my years of college and independence. I’m no stranger to leadership roles, but to be looked at for experience-based wisdom on a consistent basis is an unnerving eye-opener.

Mundane day-to-day necessities like paying bills, shopping, or even cleaning are no longer mysterious and arcane things that only my parents had to deal with. I’ve also moved past the headache and anxiety with having to accomplish these tasks. Well, perhaps there’s still anxiety when money is tight, but that’s a separate issue. The process is no longer daunting, instead all these things have become routine.

The motivation for this train of thought didn’t come from knowing how to talk to a plumber though, its because of a girl.

Jon’s about the same age as I when I first encountered this type of female friend: the clingy girl. A physically, emotionally, and socially needy individual – great for three-legged races, but scary in most other scenarios. In my situation, it was a series of lucky coincidences that turned sour with my first San Diegan girlfriend.

I met “Jane” at a mixer for new Professional Studies and Fine Arts transfer students and we hit it off. Through the conversation I learned she lived in the same residential hall apartments that I did. Later on that night my roommates and I ended up hanging out at her place, with her roommates and some other folks. It was the first party I ever had in San Diego, and the first time I’d ever received and given a haircut while tipping back a few – Don’t try that at home kids. The night ended on a horizontal note and it seemed like all was well.

As time progressed everything became less well. She learned my schedule better than I knew it. That could be seen as a sweet gesture, until she started showing up outside of classes and became agitated if I was ever not “where I should have been.” This was scary Swimfan stuff here, guys. Eventually I learned to hide, with many thanks to her roommates and mine. This steady increase in not meeting her expectations resulted in some explosive retribution from her end, yet she eventually got tired of me falling short and thus grew bored.

Now here in the present, we have Jon. He met a girl through a free online dating site and she came over and watched a movie with him (and I mean that in truth, not as a euphemism). Ever since the credits stopped rolling she’s been calling and text messaging him nonstop. He claimed that he was ignoring her and trying to cut ties, but I could tell what he was still gaming for with this one.

Just like when he wanted to know about dealing with his insurance company, he looked to me for some advice. And having survived the situation myself and seeing he had a chance to take a right turn where I had taken the wrong one, I shared my wisdom:

Clingy, stalker girls are like Gremlins. Don’t feed them, and don’t get them wet. Follow those two rules and you’ll be safe.

When I came home from my own escapades last night and found the two of them on the couch, all I could do was shake my head and mutter, “Gremlins man, Gremlins,” as I walked up stairs. My only hope is she doesn’t get a driver’s license and start showing up here unannounced. Good thing my door has a lock; I wouldn’t enjoy being murdered because she wanted some alone time.