| |
[Jul. 17th, 2008|08:42 pm] |
Something awkward overheard...
Last week, I flew home and, as everyone knows, flying these days just isn't so much fun. But there I was, halfway through a day of flying already. After the plane had touched down, the flight attendant came on and told us that use of cellular devices was permitted, however, please keep your seat belt fastened. Immediately, the darling girl sitting next to me whipped out her cell and calls someone. "Hi sweetheart!" She burbled, "We made it!" So this is cute, right?
After about a minute and a half of this, just as we'd all had enough of her cooing, she made the most awful noise I've ever heard. A brief pause and then, "...What?"
pause pause pause
"...Your...wife?"
Oh shit.
And then, "You fucking cunt," She half screamed, half sobbed into the phone. "You didn't tell me you were fucking married! Asshole! Fuck you!" And then she hung up on him, in tears and stuck in a window seat near the back of the plane. A plane that hadn't even reached the gate yet and wouldn't for another five minutes because there was another plane in the way.
Rough wait, all around, really, but especially for her... |
|
|
| What The Hell Went Wrong In My Life? Part 14 |
[Jul. 17th, 2008|01:05 pm] |
Otherwise entitled "I Was Bewitched By Her Feminine Aisles"
...
Women are evil.
...
There, I've said it and I dare anyone to try and prove to me otherwise! Of course I am only really saying this as a prelude to the embarrassment I am about to relate to you, in which the females will likely find hilarious and the males in the audience will at some point undoubtably cringe. What subject matter could possibly cause this kind of reactionary dichotomy you ask? Well, I think you know what it is, as many posts in this community tend to reflect the female side of things which is all well and good, but I am here to tell you of the shrieking terror from which the male perspective suffers. Well, from which I suffer from in any case, because as I mentioned previously women are evil.
It all started out innocently enough... God, each and every time I type those words every hair on my body puffs out like a ferret's tail. Anyhow, I should probably give you some relevant information rather than a blow by blow account of err... what is happening to my body. Actually what is happening to my body is kind of the point here for the basis of my story, so I will try to keep with the subject at... hand.
Hands. That is my problem at the moment. According to the specialists I have a very rare form of arthritis in my hands and wrists and it is even rarer that I would have this at my age. I have had it for a while now and at times it can be painful to do things. So the last time I was at the specialist he prescribed an anti-inflammatory gel called diclofenac that I would be able to rub into my wrists for some relief. I thought to myself that this would be a good thing, never once thinking about the impending doom to which my life inevitably takes me. Of course my significant other does not like to be called "Impending Doom", but rather much prefers the moniker of "Ice Queen". You may recall her from my last Pilsbury's post with her Blowadoughaphobia, but this may restore the balance to know she is not simply an innocent bystander to the train wreck that is my life. Many times she is the engineer.
In order to fill my prescription we both head over to the local pharmacy. I submit my prescription to the pharmacist behind the counter whom I deal with all the time and she tells me that it will be about 10 minutes or so for it to be ready. No problem. I go off in search of my significant other to make sure she isn't buying the store out, because let's face it, she's done it before. So before long I slip into my role of uncomfortable male following excited female through all of the scents, rubs, lotions, sprays, perfumes and everything else I have absolutely no clue about. I am almost phased out when she hands me three small brightly coloured cardboard boxes and proceeds to ask me which scent I liked best. Well, I can do that. She keeps walking up the aisle and around the corner while I start smelling the different fragrances from the boxes. At this point the pharmacist appears to tell me that my prescription is ready when she stops mid sentence, gawks, turns around and walks away. I turn around to look behind me to see what freak of nature has caused her to suddenly leave. No one there. Puzzling. I look down. All the blood in my body suddenly formed a democracy, took a vote and decided it was probably best to leave my body forever and never return at that point. Yes, that's right, I am in the feminine hygiene aisle, by myself, sniffing an armful of panty liners.
I'll let that one sink in for a moment...
So I regain consciousness, a few times actually, it sort of faded in and out there for a bit. Normally, a sane person would try to remove themselves from an awkward situation such as this to avoid any further humiliation. Due to the lack of blood left in my brain and the fact that a nice calming string quartet was playing somewhere in my unconscious while ocean breezes soothed and carried away the echoing screams of 'pervert' rattling around in my head, I decided it would be a good idea to go up to the pharmacist and smile really big at her. After all, you can't be a pervert if you smile; right?
While the other pharmacists are whispering in the back and staring at me, my pharmacist brings over my prescription and starts to ring me up while I continue to provide a rather strained smile at her. A smile which left me the moment she handed me the gel and said out loud in front of other customers, "Here's the gel for your chronic wrist pain. You just rub it in but I am sure you can figure it out." It was then that I shared a special moment with everyone. Great. Now not only do they think I am a pervert for sniffing panty liners but a chronic masturbator as my prescription would now indicate.
I can't go back there.
Women are evil. |
|
|
| Hey You! You're still young enough to menstruate! |
[Jul. 17th, 2008|05:06 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  confused | ] |
Yesterday at work I had what I think will go down as one of the strangest and most embarrassing moments of my life (so far).
Background: I work in a small shop (total staff of about 7 people) in a small village, so I generally know everyone who comes in.
Right, so this woman, let's call her B, comes into the shop quite often. She owns a big house in the area and generally thinks that everyone must drop everything they're doing to help her with things.
So, it's about 7:15 last night, and I'm doing the paper returns ready to shut at half past. B comes in and, after picking up some tins of dog food, without a "hello" or anything, says:
"I've got a friend staying with me and she's got terrible period pain."
Pause. Awkward looks between [older female] Co-Worker and I. B carries on to Co-Worker, completely blanking me.
"Do you know what I should take her? It's been years since I've had those problems! She's come from abroad and you know how it can come a bit early and more painful if you're not in your own country!" Can it really, B? Co-Worker answers with much the same as B just said. Trying to be my usual helpful self, I stupidly reply.
"I take ibuprofen when I get it, that helps." B looks at me and smiles.
"Really? Does it? Do you have any?" I give her some Neurofen, reassuring that it's good for period cramp, and she puts it on her account. She starts to leave, and suddenly turns to me again and says "Would you mind coming with me and telling my friend? I don't know if she'll believe me."
"I'm sure she'll believe you, B."
"No, please, I've got her in the car!" I exchange a bemused look with Co-Worker, agree and follow her out to the car, which she unlocks (She locked the poor woman in!).
"This is A, she's given me some pills for you which she says she takes." The woman (call her C) looks absolutely mortified and tries to avoid eye contact. I just stand and awkwardly try to explain, still trying to get me head around things myself.
"Yeah, I get quite bad period pain sometimes and this helps." C says that she's got some of her own pain killers with her, and the she trusts them and so will continue to take them. Understandable. B had obviously just insisted that she try to help.
The icing on the awkward cake, though, was when B actually said: "Oh, that's fine! All we women are bound by the friendship of this!" C and I just stare at her. I excuse myself and run back to the shop only to burst into laughter as soon as I'm in the door.
Doesn't really look like much now I write it down, but it was a serious WTF?! moment at the time.
X-Posted to ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif) customers_suck |
|
|
| The Morning After... |
[Jul. 14th, 2008|09:03 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Still at home... | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  calm | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Depeche Mode - John the Revelator. | ] |
So my boyfriend and I live together, we had recently moved to a friend's house, but we had tons of problems and we had to move as soon as possible, as we havent found a place yet, we are staying at his parents' house. That was a couple of days ago... last night we had a very passionate night and this morning his mother had this conversation with him:
Mom in law: So, were the rooms next to each other where you were living?
Boyfriend: Yes.
Mom in law: Oh so I guess they could hear when you were having fun, cause my room is far from yours and I heard you last night.
Boyfriend: ---Silence---
I'm just happy I wasnt there this morning to see her face...
|
|
|
| |
[Jul. 10th, 2008|06:37 pm] |
Ever throw yourself at someone who you like, and you think they like you back, but it turns out they are not really interested in anything more but they're cool about the situation, except you don't really realize this so you keep doing it?
awwkkward
eeyyhah... :/ |
|
|
| |
[Jul. 9th, 2008|08:12 pm] |
Leave it to my dad to be awkward.
Dad: I'm back.
Me: Oh?
Dad: Yeah the doctor say that everything is pretty much fine. For the most part we talked about language and politics, and our kids. He would be fun to have at a barbecue. We hardly talked about anything medical.
Me: Ok. * watches television, a few minutes pass*
Dad: Anyways I have to go get a colonoscopy next week.
Me: ....
Dad: Yeah so I can't eat anything with seeds then 24 hours before I can't eat anything at all.
Me:...
Dad: So yeah. No seeds.
Me: ....
Dad: Oh and I can't drive after the procedure.
Me"....
My relationship with Dad is interesting; I don't bring up any female subjects, I don't bring up sex, or any sort of scandalous talk; god forbid I bring up the topic of homosexuality. Likewise, he does not talk about anything like that. I don't want him to. I don't expect him to. And I really don't want to talk to him about his colonoscopy. |
|
|
| Cleavage |
[Jul. 5th, 2008|03:26 pm] |
So I was sitting in class the other day while my teacher was rambling on about the Middle East (it's a course about communication during conflict and so on). My teacher was explaining to the class how the customs in parts of the Middle East, Saudi Arabia especially, require that women must be fully covered (and how some Americans find this repulsive). He then points directly at me.
"See how Jessica has parts of her cleavage showing? That would be a big no-no in Saudi Arabia."
Of course, I instantly look down at my boobs wondering: wtf is he talking about? I was wearing a very modest tank top with a buttoned up overshirt. I then look up to realize everyone in the class was now staring at my boobs.
Yaaay!
[Ps. If any of you can recall the story I posted a while back about a teacher calling me "Beauty" on accident--this is the same teacher.. I'm starting to be concerned.] |
|
|
| well... when a man loves a goat.... |
[Jun. 30th, 2008|11:37 am] |
The other day my dad was reading the news paper and I was sitting on the couch just kinda relazing. My dad is 57 and I am 21. The following ensues.
My dad and I don't get along the best, so any discussion of a sexual nature with him is reallllllllllllly uncomfortable for me.
Dad: "Hey Lis, I have a question for you."
Me: "Ok"
Dad: "Do you know what bestiality is?"
Me: O_O "uh......why do you ask?"
Dad: "I was just wondering.... It's here in the paper."
Me: O_O!!!!! "Uh... what is the context?"
Dad: "Some guy was arrested with charges on bestiality."
Me: "Um... It's... having sex with animals....like dogs and....stuff"
Dad: "Oh.............. and like farm animals?"
Me: "Yeah...."
BONUS: the first time I tried to type "dogs" I typed "dongs"
=/ |
|
|
| I'm sure nearly everyone has had a moment similar... |
[Jun. 27th, 2008|04:18 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | relaxed | ] |
I work at a bank. Lately, I haven't been working with the members face-to-face too much; but yesterday was an exception. I always try my best to be cheery when greeting the members who come to my window, especially if I recognize them as a regular. Sure enough, an older gentleman whom I recognized came up to my window; and our conversation went as follows:
Me: Hello! How're you doing today?
Him: Ah...I've been better.
Me: Awwww, how come?
Him: Well, my wife just died last night.
Me: *sputter choke cough* Oh! I apologize!
Him: Not your fault...
Me: *stares at computer screen while trying to type in his account number* I--I know, it's just...I--that's terrible...
Now, the whole time the transaction went on--and he had several, so he was there for a while--I was thinking Don't say "have a nice day," don't say "have a nice day"....
So when he left?
Me (out of habit): Have a good one! *cringe, mental facepalm* |
|
|
| Vibrator! |
[Jun. 27th, 2008|02:12 am] |
This one is from a long time ago, and I was just reminded of it.
Every year at Thanksgiving, my extended family gathers together, and besides the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, we also do this holiday grab. I think they're called a Yankee Swap. Everyone puts in a wrapped present (with a spending limit of around $10-15 a person, depending on the year) you get a number, and then you pick a gift. The first person gets the gift they pick. The next person opens a gift and can either keep it or trade it for the first person's gift, and the other person has to give it up. And so on and so forth. (Though we have a house rule that the first person gets to go again at the end, so that way everyone has at least some choice.) It's always a lot of fun, and sometimes I've come out with really cool things.
So a couple of years ago, someone had put in one of those little hand-held vibrating massage things. And when it was opened and my mom saw it, she was like "ooh, a vibrator!" and then continued to call it a vibrator. Each time she said it, I was inwardly cringing. ("You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means...") And the thing was, she kept on mentioning it, such as "you should trade for the vibrator!" etc. And she has a pretty loud voice.
Eventually someone explained to her that the word "vibrator" usually refers to a vibrating sex toy. And then she stopped.
But at the time I just wanted to crawl into a box or something.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bonus awkward moment:
My 16th birthday. I was at this convention in LA with about 5000 Jewish teens. And we were at Universal Studios. We basically had the whole park to ourselves.
There was this guy who I met there who I kinda had a crush on, but he ended up hooking up with this other girl. Though 2 of my friends were trying to get the two of us together. At one point we were all standing in line for the train ride thingy where you go through the park and see the sets and stuff. It was a long line.
While in line, my friends were trying to get between the guy I liked and the girl he had hooked up with, so I would end up sitting next to the guy. It would have worked theoretically, except at the end she ended up getting in front of us.
So the seating arrangement was thus: *random ppl**me**guy**girl**random people*
And then the two of them start making out, in the train-car, right next to me. And I was stuck there until the ride was over. And it was a long ride.
Nevermind the fact that it was also raining.
And did I mention it was my freaking birthday?!?! My sweet 16.
Most miserable birthday ever. (All the ones since have been fine.) |
|
|
| Graduation... the possibilities are endless. |
[Jun. 24th, 2008|08:06 am] |
So graduation was about a month ago, and I had completely forgotten about this story until now.
At the time, I was sort of crushing on this guy named Aaron, and was just trying to hang out with him a little to see if there was any chemistry. Consequently, I ended up inviting him to Project Graduation --- via myspace message (Yes, yes, I am a coward). When he asked what time to pick me up, I responded 7:45, and then went to bed.
Grad practice was at 8 the next morning, so I left at around 7 to make sure I could find the place. I go in and find some friends, start chatting away, and I get a phone call from home.
"Hello?"
"Heeeey," (it was my mom) "guess who was just here?"
*puzzled* "Who?"
"Aaaaaaroooooon." she says teasingly.
My face gets pale as an awful realization dawns upon me.
"What did he want?"
"Ummm... actually, I'm not sure - he just asked if you were here. I think he wanted to take you to the armory, isn't that sweet?"
No, I'm thinking, This isn't sweet at all - he thinks we're going at 7:45 AM.
So I explain to situation to her, and all she can do is burst out laughing. I don't think she fully understood - he lives about 45 minutes out of town, so in order to get ready and be at my house at 7:45 he would've had to have gotten up EARLY. I'm gonna be honest, besides being terribly embarrassed I felt more sorry for him than anything... And then, I had to wait for an agonizing 10 minutes for him to get to the armory so I could tell him that he was 12 hours early.
I see him walking up the sidewalk, and I can just feel the awkwardness pouring out of some time rift from about 30 seconds in the future. He walks up to me, starts to initiate a conversation, and I can't bear it - I must cut him off and save him as much embarrassment as possible.
"Hey, there you a-"
"Okay, so.... The party is at 8..... PEEEE eeeeem....."
:stare:
Him: "Oh...." :flush:
"Yeeeeaaahhh... BUT! You know, thanks for... uh... you know... coming out here and everything..."
:mumble mumble: "Yeah.... so I'll see you later I guess?"
"Yeah..." :we part ways and I'm mentally kicking myself for not putting "PM" in the message:
Later on, though, I couldn't help but to wonder, "why would anyone think the school would be hosting a party from 8 AM to 12 midnight?" and I started to feel better about myself.
At least the awkwardness was over by the time he REALLY had to come pick me up... :facepalm: I still feel bad for him. |
|
|
| Orson Scott Card: a tale of retroactive awkwardness |
[Jun. 23rd, 2008|11:49 pm] |
Hi everyone! I've been lurking for a while, and I think it's time I come out of hiding to tell you this story.
Disclaimer: The following is a story about a blunder I made a couple of months ago. It is not meant to be offensive, though I did end up making an offhanded offensive comment, which was not meant to be offensive or hurtful.
Background: I am a graduate student at Harvard Divinity. The Harvard Radcliffe Science Fiction Association, HRSFA, holds a science fiction convention during intersession every year (this past one was their 8th) called Vericon. I was running the food for Vericon, which was a challenging job at times, but it meant I had control of what we bought, which had its advantages (the main one being that almost everything we bought was kosher. Mind you, this was not really an abuse of power because the Con Chair JB was okay with it, and I ended up staying well within budget, and everyone thought the food was amazing. I digress).
Anyways, our guest of honor was Orson Scott Card, who had come with his wife and daughter. (There was a lot of controversy surrounding our choice of guest, though the choice had been made before I got there. He apparently has a lot of anti-gay beliefs. Also, Card is a very devout Mormon.) On Saturday night JB and I went to Card's book signing, and since we had to set up the dance, we got to abuse our power and cut the line. While he was signing our con t-shirts (since Randall Munroe was another guest, we used this xkcd comic as our shirt:( xkcd! )) I mentioned how I was in charge of food, and had been running mafia and made sure that food was plentiful in the game, and we had a rain of oreos. Card mentioned how his daughter had been in the game, and she didn't like chocolate. I was like "um, there was other food as well..." (there was. I basically asked what people wanted and grabbed it all from the con suite...) Also, I had not realized his daughter was in the game. I briefly met her and Card's wife when they arrived on Friday morning, but I guess I didn't remember what she looked like...
Anyways, as we were walking out of the book signing, the stupidity of what I had done earlier in the day hit me. A flashback:
Saturday morning. We were starting our game of mafia. ( a description of mafia )
I was the narrator/God. I wasn't sure whether or not we started with a mafia-caused death, or if we just started with the first town accusation day phase, since it had been ages since I had last played. Apparently, you start with the accusation. So the narrator/god is the one who dies first. And I was like "so I die and become a goddess1... I could be a crazy Mormon. I could be Orson Scott Card!"
And all the while, his daughter was in the game, unbeknownst to me! Though she didn't say anything, and I hope I didn't offend her too much. I felt like such an idiot. But at least everyone seemed to have fun in the game.
And it made for a good story at the post-mortem meeting we had after the Con.
1 I was once told that Mormons believe that when you die, you become a god/goddess of your own world. That's where the comment came from. |
|
|
| Awkward |
[Jun. 23rd, 2008|11:00 am] |
I got a nice new dress for my friends wedding and I thought I looked pretty killer in it. I wore it to work on Friday, again, thinking I looked pretty classy. Half way through the day I went to the bathroom and checked myself out in front of the mirror (like most people do when they're feeling sexy). To my horror, I discovered that the fabric of the dress wasn't as thick as I had anticipated and you could clearly see my underpants. In general I was pretty embarrassed but comforted in the knowledge that if you were going to see my underpants they were the most awesome ones I own.
David Bowie!
( Bowie ) |
|
|
| the awkward pedicure |
[Jun. 21st, 2008|10:25 pm] |
Today, my aunt insisted on taking me to get a pedicure. I resisted, I really did. I am entirely too ticklish for the whole process, and people always get fed up with my feet jerking around because I can't hold them still. But she insisted, so I wound up going.
So I sit down in the pedi chair and let my feet soak. Eventually a little guy comes over and starts putting the lotions and stuff in order. I realized he had this funny little mustache, and the more I looked at it, the more I realized it looked like a Hitler mustache. Okay, a little Vietnamese guy with a Hitler mustache. Great, just my luck. To make the situation worse, I realize that he's got these freakishly long fingernails. Then he starts scrubbing my right foot, which leads to uncontrollable foot-jerking.
At this point, I'm determined not to look at him. I don't want to see him frowning with his little Hitler mustache, firmly gripping my foot with his long-nailed fingers in an annoyed attempt to hold me still. I looked over his head, at the other side of the shop, searching for something to keep my attention. On the opposite wall, there are three pictures.
Picture One: the Virgin Mary
Picture Two: Jesus
Picture Three: Hitler
I kid you not. There was a picture of HITLER on the wall, next to Jesus and the Virgin Mary. I almost died. I couldn't stand it, so I attempted to gesture to my aunt to look at the pictures, and instead wound up getting the attention of the lady who was doing her feet. I tried to brush the whole thing off, but she insisted on TAKING THE PICTURE DOWN AND BRINGING IT OVER SO I COULD GET A BETTER LOOK AT IT. I was like "Um... yeah... it's really nice..." I thought my aunt was going to have a heart attack she was laughing so hard.
I pretty much stared at my lap for the rest of the time. Apparently, my aunt had never noticed it before, despite the fact that she'd been there several times.
Seriously. Hitler. Oh my god. |
|
|
| |
[Jun. 21st, 2008|06:08 pm] |
I went to a bonfire yesterday that was a graduation and birthday party rolled into one. I'd say there were about thirty or so people there and everyone is just generally having a good time and preparing to rejoice in my demise.
My time of departure rolls around and I start saying goodbye to the people around me. It's as I get to my friend, who we will call Roland, that things go terribly wrong.
Me: Bye, Roland.
[Hugs take place here.]
Roland: Bye, Taylor.
[A kid named... Lloyd comes and sits down next to Roland.]
Roland: [Distracted.] Lloyd, do you shave your nipples?
Lloyd: [Looks down.] Yep.
Me: [So incredibly elated by this response, brain no longer functioning.] ME TOO!
Cue blank stares.
... Blank, blank stares.
And then Roland, at the top of his lungs, screams, "EVERYONE... EVERYONE!"
Of course, everyone turns.
More stares.
"TAYLOR SHAVES HER NIPPLES"
General mayhem follows. |
|
|
| go with the flow |
[Jun. 19th, 2008|07:01 pm] |
This one is painful for me to write about.
I was in my office at work, chatting with a friend via phone during my lunch hour. I started griping about how, and I quote, "My Aunt Flow is in town...yeah, it's great," and then we commiserated a bit and moved on to other things. In case anyone doesn't know Aunt Flow = slang for menstruation. Anyway, my door was half-closed, the hall outside was empty, and I wasn't even talking in a loud voice (foreshadowing, anyone?).
About ten minutes after I hung up with my friend, the young man who has an office next to mine--young, sweet, and foreign--popped his head into my office.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I could not help hearing that you have family in town."
I stared at him for a moment, thinking, "What? Family in town?" And then...
Oh no. Aunt Flow!
I blushed, stammered, and said that yes, she was in town. I then had to wince my way through our brief conversation that involved him mostly wishing me a happy time with my family. God I hope he doesn't mention it to someone more familiar with crude expressions, or we will both be very embarrassed very soon. |
|
|
| |
[Jun. 19th, 2008|07:46 pm] |
All right, so this was a few years ago, when I was a freshman. It was my first year on the fencing team, probably my first tournament, but I don't remember. Anyway, this top-ranking senior girl and I were in the same pool, and we were watching some of the directors. Since we're in a high school league, they have to get a lot of parent/sibling/etc. volunteers to be directors, so they're usually inept, having been taught the basics just earlier that morning. Well, the director of my pool was no exception. While watching her be confused, I noticed the other girl sigh a little and shake her head. So I said, a little conspiratorially, "Hah, she's pretty incompetent, isn't she?"
"She's my mother."
...
"Oh.
Heh."
Then she beat me in our direct elimination. :( But only by one point! |
|
|
| |
[Jun. 19th, 2008|01:42 pm] |
my company sponsors an outdoor experience day to get employees active for a day and involved in some of the activities we have products for. in the evening i went out kayaking with a group for about two hours in a tandem kayak with a larger woman who'd never done it before, so i ended up paddling two miles for two of us. pair that i have a terrible sense of direction and that we were on the water for a long time, and i got pretty tired and a little disoriented.
as we walked with our gear back up to the meeting area, i looked up and noted,
"man, check out the moon."
the tour guide responded,
"yeah, that's the sun."
aaaaaand cue crickets. |
|
|
| |
[Jun. 16th, 2008|10:36 pm] |
I am sometimes a very awkward person in general when dealing with people, so you should get an idea of how am I at work or in a store.
So I go to Dunkin Donuts today, and I order, and wait for my drink to be ready. The guy brings it back and tells me it's $4.87. Of course, I ignored the stupid little screen in front of me telling me the grand total with tax, and hand him a 5 dollar bill. We stare at each other before he tells me it's $5... and I stop listening, jerking down to the screen.
I make an O with my mouth, literally, and fish around for the ten bucks I know I have. He seems to get tired of me or something and tells me "It's okay, I got it" and moves on.
I stand there for a few seconds, before stuffing the 10 back in my pocket underneath my gum and go on my merry way.
It depresses me that I might not be able to go back because I might see him again |
|
|
