January 30th

Posted: January 30, 2013 in Uncategorized

Dear journal,

My dinner last night turned out to be more eventful that I initially thought it would be. After I received my meal (burger and fries – I’m a simple lady, sometimes), I started to overhear another conversation about my antics of the previous night, except this time, one of the voices was oddly familiar. Not only that, this person was talking about how it was probably all made up. I knew I shouldn’t let idle chatter bother me, but it kept going until after I was finished my meal. Then I heard, “Whoever she is, she probably just wanted to feel like a hero and got the guys to tell the story her way instead of saying that they did all the work.”

I’m not usually one to brag, but hearing someone completely discount my efforts and say that some big, strong men had to take care of my problems for me definitely pissed me off. I rose out of my booth, turned around and announced, rather loudly to the mostly deserted and tiny dinner, “I spent my time making sure that thing didn’t get out of the dumpster, not fabricating stories of heroism.”

I don’t know if I have ever heard the dinner so silent. Even all of the machines in the kitchen seemed to stop making noises, and I suddenly had a pair of eyes looking at me from behind the counter, and three pairs from the table on the other side of the room. I doubt that anyone besides the owner knew I was there, since I was sitting with my back to the group in the booth, and my head doesn’t clear the top when I sit comfortably. I connected with a pair of emerald eyes at the far table, and realized why the voice that had basically called me a coward sounded so familiar.

Andrew. So, I guess he’s not dead, but at this point he’s pretty lucky, because when I realized it was him, I felt like hitting him as hard as I could. Who was he to gossip about the attack on me from the dumpster? Who was he to disappear and make me worry about him?

I had already left the money for my bill on my table, so I grabbed my bag, strode right up to the table, with all eyes right on me, and bent to deliver my final verbal blow, really quietly, so everyone moved closer to hear me: “Besides, the last time something needed to be killed and you were around, I saved your ass and killed it myself. Maybe I should have gone off fabricating stories and left it to devour you.”

I left. No one said a word. As soon as I got outside, I felt like the world’s biggest bad ass. Nothing like that has ever happened to me. I’ve been in situations before where I have wished I had something witty to say, but my mind drew a blank and the time. Hours later, I’d have at least ten things floating around my brain that would have worked well. For once, I found the best thing to say right in the moment.

And now I can completely forget about that Andrew jerk. No more possible guilt about him getting attacked. No more wondering why he left. He left because he’s an idiot – nothing more than that. I’m so glad I never offered for him to stay permanently, because that would have been a huge disaster. I’m also glad that I had the key when he decided to just leave my house and take some of the clothing from Mother’s junk stack with him. I assume he didn’t take anything else, although it would be impossible to tell unless it was something of mine. I feel so delighted with myself that I think tonight’s sleep will be very peaceful, once I finally get home from this mega busy shift. Gotta get back – my break just ended and the boss is getting slammed.



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