What the hell is a flying green song-rabbit?!

Grongbit (GReen sONG rabBIT) is the result of our nicknames combined. "Our" meaning the three founding authors. The flying comes from our guest-turned-permanent blogger, Butterfly Coffin.

And yes, rabbits can too fly, sing and be green.

Feel free to leave a comment!

Saturday, May 17, 2008

I Can't Concentrate

Listening to: Nothing.
Reading: Deltora Quest 3 - Emily Rodda
Wants: More time.


So the deadline for my major major assignment is due, and I still am on 2000/12000+ words. It is not a good feeling, folks. But since I can't focus anymore, there's no point trying.

Alright, my Saturday. Usual time, usual place. I'm having another fat day; you know, when you wake up and look at yourself in the mirror and it's like what the hell, my face gained five pounds. All together a not very happy day. Not to mentioned I am totally and utterly creeped out.

A filthy, and I mean FILTHY (I am not being rude, discriminative nor condescending, he really was), beggar came into the store today, and me being the sweet server I am, treated him with equal respect and courtesy. Big mistake.

At first it was fine, sure he stank like pee and sweat, so bad that my mother had to run back into the kitchen to avoid the smell. I felt sorry for the other customers, but we couldn't just make him leave seeing how he ate a lot of food (and paid up). He stayed for quite some time, and I was just all -fake- smiles and cheer, not that anyone really notices. I think I really do have a knack for acting. He stood up which I took for him leaving *yay* but instead came to the counter and asked for my name.

Beggar: What's your name?

Me: Uh *hesitate* [enter false name
here].


Beggar: Nice to
meet you [false name].


He then holds out a hand.

My mind is racing, battling with my sense of righteousness and my arrogance. A tiny hesitation before I gently shake his hand and withdraw. He turns around and walks outside as I rush into the kitchen to wash my hand with soap. I really should have worn gloves on both hands instead of one.

Oh no, I thought I was rid of the man but here he comes, strolling back into the shop because he forgot to take his things. That unbearable stench, the looks he gives me freaks me out and I feel like running. He says over and over again "Bye bye [fake name]", "Thank you [fake name]", "A pleasure to meet you [fake name]". I am so glad I didn't give him my real name otherwise I'd be thoroughly spooked. Everytime he saw me looking in his direction he would wave and I'd nod sheepishly, turning away sharply and busying myself with something, anything. This goes on for awhile and I breathe a sigh of relief as he disappears from sight (after loitering ouside, he must have driven heaps of customers away).

When he is gone, it leaves me feeling incredibly bad. The beggar was just hideous. Every inch of my being was repulsed. My hair, my skin, my fingernails and clothes are as impeccable as I can get it to be. And he looked as though he hadn't showered in years.

It truly was disgusting.

And that in itself disgusted me; firstly, thinking like that is very rude. He chose this lifestyle (or maybe not...) and this is the way he's living, I should be pitying or sympathising.

The second thought that disgusted me was the fact that he had came on to me. He showed interest in me. I am...very much so astounded beyond belief. Now that I have time to reflect upon this incident, I feel tears threatening to shake me again.

Insecurities.

No decent looking guy has ever hit on me besides my ex-boyfriends (and come on, they don't really count now do they, my girls?). Everyone else, where ever I am, I am leered at by ugly I-have-no-idea-what-nationality-they-are men at the station, old Asian men who barely speak English and all others that you would have no trouble turning down if the opportunity arises. Certainly it is my youth they desire, and perhaps even my womanly body. This is indeed a dangerous, despicable thought. These men have no idea they are 5 months shy of paedophilia.

Reality has yet to prove me otherwise.

I feel really sick right now. I feel like puking and sobbing.

N said I should get some pepper spray. He accepts being labelled as a creep since only creeps hit on me. He's such a sweetie.


Dear God,
Send me an angel,
Who loves me, adores me, worships me,
Who I can use, abuse and discard at my will.
Oops, you already have?

~~~

` S

4 comments:

Midori said...

Haha that is sweet =)

Cheer up I'm sure he'll be back.... i mean he won't be back =)

M.

ButterflyCoffin said...

Hmm...so you were hit on by a guy you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole =\

Personally wondering where he got his money from...

Serena said...

He's a beggar. He begs for money.

ButterflyCoffin said...

Buy a toilet and a shower with it >___>