the store

it's so funny the real, palpable hate i place on people that mill around the store when i want to completely ignore that i have a job to do. the oddest part is that i'm completely convinced that they're people i dislike. just the way she walks sickens me. her legs moving so slow and with such greedy ease independent of her torso, like a lounging roman's arm picking the ripest grape.

men are quite different generally. in a weird way they'll respect my space making sure not to draw my attention with any lingering proximity. even if they're just here to browse - so therefore unlike a typical man - i don't fear them because men don't take much offense if you don't talk to them. and if you do talk to them, unless you both immediately converge on a subject you're both obviously interested in, the conversation will end abruptly and cordially with both parties coming away feeling good about the quick exchange of pleasantries.

but real fear is a lingering woman. some women don't realize maybe how easily they get off when they're young and pretty. they must think i'm their therapist for that is the only other circumstance i can imagine such one-way communication.

so i'm feeling a little guilty with my head down

even in just asking for a measuring tape. she wants me to see what she's doing.