Run away, run away

Recently I have had the very strange experience of running into people from Guelph who I just don't like. I didn't like them then when I lived in Guelph and to be perfectly frank was happy to see them make the diaspora to Toronto, however now that I am here it only makes sense that I start running into them and I find it creepy, careless and unnecessary in my opinion.
Here is the deal:
There are two main offenders that I have recently run into Jen and Amanda (Just in case this is some holier than thou person reading this who thinks that they know who Jen and Amanda are and feel like telling them - don't - I am not using their real names. (so put that in your back pocket!) ) and it has been both awkward and relieving at the exact same time.
It has been awkward because I don't want to see these people, nor do I want to run into them. It is hell for me to relive the moments that I wasted with these people who are not my friends and never were, but for some reason I just could not shake them and being as fucking nice as I am I was never able to just flat out tell them to get lost. (however, nowadays I probably would do that - Oh if only I could run into Franco again (not real name))So seeing these people puts me on edge.
With Amanda it was on the subway that I saw her. I got on, grabbed hold of the bar and looked down and there she was and she was looking right back up at me. I am sure that a look of sheer terror was across my face, but I then diverted my look and hoped that she would not recognise me. I had lost a lot of weight and well the no hair thing also kind of throws people. She then stood up to get off and was face to face with me, it was definitly her and she said nothing and got off, I was so happy that she did not talk to me and want my number and to hang out, that would have been hell.
The other incident was today. I was walking home after work and I walked past Jen (still not her real name) and she looked right at me and I saw a glimmer of recognition but I flashed her a dirty look that made her stop her half smile and she kept on walking and I kept on walking. I so did not want to talk to her ever again, what an annoying twit nugget. And that night that her Mom hit on me at the underground (not real name of bar) was just pathetic, I mean how much more obvious can a gay guy be about being gay? She should have known better, tsk tsk. Not to mention the fact that she is old enough to be my mother.