My best Valentines day story.
Okay. So like, I'm on my way home...and it's misty raining. I'm walking downtown to the little Smoke Shop on the light rail strip. And so...there I am...soaked. Jeans, oversized brown sweater...Doc Martins...listening to...(hmmm...?)...probably Weiland. (I was huge into him at that time...)
And THERE THEY ARE. The sweet, loving, perfect little fucking couples. Oh, and she's got roses. And he thinks he'll probably get laid tonight. And they are just sweet. And fucking perfect. Their perfect hair and shoes...and their plastic manners...
And, of course, THEY ALL have to give me that EW, LOOK AT THE SOAKING WET BLONDE GIRL look. You know, that look that seems to silently say thank-God-I'm-not-you.
And. I felt their look.
Shards of shattered glass shooting straight into my single pathetic soul, you heartless, mindless, plastic fuckers!
Well. I now know, without any doubt, those couples ain't together anymore. Cause, the rumor has it that less than 50% of married couples make it 6 years...So HAH HAH FUCKING HAH.
But...um...okay...well...I make it into the Smoke Shop. And there's this Iranian dude all sitting on this barstool behind the counter, listening to the Motherland radio station...and it's piping out some whining/shrieking woman and like citars.... I'm guessing their Middle East version of Mariah Carey...
Okay...and so like I ask for my cloves. And he's all like gesturing that he has to go get them from the back. (I'm sure he mumbled something too...but I was doing Weiland...okay...?)
So like...my heart: heavy. My being: feeling so alone...
And, the only person I have a chance to speak with...he walks away...
And I dropped my head...from sorrow...being tired...discouraged...alone...
And right there...down by my feet...I see a wad of cash...
Well...Shityeah!!
I look over to Ahmed...and he's all still in the back...so...
instantmoraldecision.
*If I pick it up and give it to Ahmed...that would be honest...
*But, Ahmed is gonna keep it...
*Nobody at fucking all around...
*Therefore, by theory of deduction modulo...It's my wad...or it's Ahmed's...
*And I've always found theorys to be somewhat unstable...and, given the present situation, I believe it best to associate the axiom of asymmetric deduction modulo. (This works for me.)
*All logic aside...therefore..my conclusion to this matter is simple...
FINDERS FUCKING KEEPERS!
So...yeah. I swiped it!
Ahmed returns, and is all showing signs of his impatience with me for actually making him get up off his barstool...
and I pay...
and I bolt!
I got about a block away...and, there, wrapped up in a FIVE...was also a TWENTY and a FIFTY.
And...I knew it was God's little Valentine to me. I really did. And that was the best Valentine's gift I've ever received...
...to be reminded of the Source of comfort...of which, men are swell imitators...but ain't nothin better than to know that
even all by myself: I am never really alone.
And that's my story.
And I'm goin to bed.
Alone...but not really....
Kat
Theme song of the day: "The Young Crazed Peeling" by The Distillers.
