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2003-02-20 - 2:15 p.m. don't worry now, don't worry cuz it's all under control - hot hot heat ANNOYED i just got back from having a late, fucked up lunch with my friend chris. i've mentioned him before. he's my shleprockesque buddy. we're at lunch, and he's telling me about...well, let's start from the start. i had my yearly eye exam this morning. afterwards, i was gonna hook up with chris, and we were gonna hang out. i had my eyes dialated, so they were sensitive to light, and stuff. i get to his place, i've got my shades on, and i'm looking down cuz the sun is beating. he answers the door, and the first thing he says is, "what's wrong? did someone embarrass you on the stairs?", like all exasperated with me, and i just fucking got there, dude. i told him no, and let it slide. we go to the mall at his insistence, and we're in miller's outpost, or is it anchor blue? i forget. anyway, we're in there, and i'm by myself in the girls section cuz i'm looking for something for my sister, just because. the salesgirl comes up, starts asking me questions, suggesting stuff, maybe flirting, whatever. i'm doing alright, i'm fine answering her and stuff. she finally asks "the question", is this for my girlfriend. i tell her no, my sister. she's working up some nerve, i'm getting weak kneed, nervous. i mumble something, and split the scene. i meet up with chris, who is actually considering some orange dickies (so straight), and i'm trying to play off my awkwardness. he asks what's wrong (again, like he's just sooo tired of me), i tell him, 'nothin'. while he buys his shit, i wait outside, he comes out glaring at me. "here", he says, thrusting a piece of paper at me, the girls number. "so typical", he says. okay, we've been down this road before. he's gotten burned out at me in the past for being, "the cute guy who doesn't want to be cute". first, those are his words, not mine. in his eyes, i get all this attention which i hate, and guys like him (btw, he's plenty cute) want attention, but don't get it. i told him if he wasn't constantly looking for the downside of every situation, and scowling, that girls would approach him more. his response: "that's easy for you to say". basically, nothing's his fault, he's a victim, and all us "cute guys" are just deliberately fucking with him for yuks. yeah, that about covers it. i gave him my stony silence. which may not sound like much given the fact that i'm a bashful fella who is prone to quietness anyway, but, believe me, there is a distinct, noticeable difference. iv'e been fine tuning my shit for years, and i'm damn good at it by now. every store he wanted to go in, i'd stop short of the entrance, and let him walk in alone. after the third store, he asked if i planned on going into any more stores. "just increasing your odds", i replied, without looking at him. i was quite pleased with myself, until, we pass the gap, and my little friend who works there flagged me down to tell me that they have some v-neck t's that would look great on me. i thanked her, told her we were just on our way out, but i'd stop by this weekend. we walk out of the mall, and he says, "fucking typical". "are we gonna eat, or what?", i asked. he semi started in on me while driving to in 'n' out. i shittcanned his shpiel, by getting embarrassed. i really was though. my shyness, my looks, i mean, c'mon. those are the two things that i get emabarrassed about the most, and he wants to get into all of it, and stuff. doubt it. he stops. we're inhaling double doubles, and he fucking starts in on me again. i said something shitty like, "what? did i get more pickles than you, or something?". he responds with a nice, "fuck you". i dropped my burger, asked for his keys, went to his car, grabbed my cigs, and smoked until he finished and walked up. then, i did something pretty shitty. i tore into him. "if you have a fucking problem with me...blah blah blah...the way you feel about yourself isn't my problem...blah blah blah...don't ever bring up my shyness again...blah blah blah. yeah, i was an asshole. that guy pushed ALL my buttons, he knows where they are, and how to do it. have i ever mentioned what happens when you embarrass me, i mean, AFTER i finish being embarrassed? i get mad. it's like, how dare you make me feel like this, you motherfucking cocksucking shit stain asshole son of a bitch. i hate that feeling worse than anything, and you're gonna MAKE me feel that way? bullfuckingshit. i don't yell, or swing, but i'll tell you off like a motherfucker. and i fucking defy you to get a word in. you want me to talk? you got it, fucker. well, i guess i'm still a bit miffed, huh? um...yeah. gotta go. later... |
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