We’ve all seen them… they come out to every remote your station does. They call in constantly on the listener lines. They show up unexpectedly at the radio station at all times of the day. Yes, I’m talking about the crazy P1 stalk… er… listeners.
While I’ve never had one of my own stalkers, I have had the experience of sharing one with the rest of the airstaff. We’ll call her “Linda” for the sake of argument and to protect the guilty.
I was working for a rock station, and “Linda” was a huge fan. She was “39 year old heterosexual female, liked to smoke Marlboro cigarettes, and drink Budweiser Beer.” How do I know this? She put it in the letter that she sent to one of our morning show hosts. I should also mention that the letter wasn’t written on stationery or even on a nice sheet of paper. No… it was written on a series yellow post-it notes that also included a crudely drawn map for said morning host to find her house! “Linda” also sent every single one of our jocks a letter that day. Each one personalized, and written in a different form. Aside from the post-it notes letters arrived written on paper, 3 x 5 cards, and even one written on an envelope. Not all of us received maps to her house, though.
“Linda” also had the habit of showing up at remotes to just hang out. The first time I met her, we were doing a remote at a Quiznos. It was also the day of our annual listener halloween party. She was the first person at the remote and proudly told me that she was coming to the party that night. I had no idea at this point who she was or how I was inviting a world of crazy upon our doorstep. I politely thanked her for listening and wound up giving her a t-shirt. But she stuck around for the entire remote to help us “promote” the radio station, and by that, I mean scare people off! And true to her word, she showed up at the Halloween party that night. In fact, she was the first on line! While we were still setting up! At this point, she had integrated herself into our lives and thought she was one of us.
There was one particular day when I decided to go to one of my favorite delis for lunch. I took one of the station vehicles (get the logo out as much as you can). As I was leaving, I heard someone call my name. I looked up and “Linda” was standing on the porch of the apartment over the deli. I didn’t know until then that that was where she lived. “I saw the van and thought you were coming to visit!” Ummm…. no. Now I can never go to one of my favorite delis ever again!
Coming soon, I will tell you about “Bob”… who is even crazier!