somebody explain to me all the assholes in the world

So last night, I'm lying in bed, reading a book, as I'm wont to do. I have the sliding glass door in my room open a little to let in a breeze, and I'm half in/half out of the covers and half in/half out of sleep. I hear a noise on the side patio, and I'm assuming it's a raccoon-- they like to tip over my plants-- so I get up to scare him off. I push the curtains aside, go to open the door a little more, and right there, I mean right there, is some guy sitting in one of my patio chairs that he's moved right up against the glass.

My first thought, as you can imagine, is "wtf?" because this is not a scene my mind can quite wrap around.

My second thought is "thank god I don't sleep naked."

And then I start getting a tad angry, and the adrenaline starts up. And I look at him (he hasn't even moved, but he's watching me) and I say, "what the f--- are you doing on my patio? Get out of my yard."

And he starts talking to me, apologizes, tells me he hopped the fence and he's just waiting for his friend and his back pack and blah blah blah and he's so sorry if he frightened me.

And I'm shaking my head, trying to get the sleep out of it, and things start coming a little more clear. Like the fact that my fence is not easily hoppable in any direction. And that I didn't hear the chair move at all, so he's probably been sitting there for quite a while. And that he's still there, staring at me, and I'm getting really sick of men who don't know me assuming that because they find me attractive that it is their right to tell me so, or watch me, or grope me, even when I tell them no.

I tell him again, "get the f--- off my porch, and don't let the gate hit you on the way out." And he apologizes again, says he'll give me some weed to smoke if I want. And he's still standing there, and he looks me up and down, and says,

"Hey, you've got that sexy librarian thing going."

I'm afraid I temporarily lost my mind. The wise thing to do, of course, would have been to close the door and call the cops. I didn't do the wise thing. I got very, very angry, and that adrenaline was really pumping, and I threw open the sliding glass door and lunged out, all 5 feet 5 inches and 130 pounds of me, and yelled "get the f--- off my porch or I will beat the living shit out of you!!"

He ran through the gate (he knew exactly where it was) to his car parked in front of my house, started it up and took off. And I sat down very fast and laughed.

and then I cried, and called the cops.

I woke up this morning and saw that he'd been watching me before I went to bed, too. The chaise lounge on the back porch is turned so that it looks directly in the dining room window at the table, where I sit and write every night before bed.

I was just starting to feel safe again, you know?

But you should have seen his face when I came out at him.