What happened to me? I wasn’t the most well-adjusted woman in the world when I started this blog, but when did I become a stuttering social reject? This is just ridiculous, if I can fight monsters and survive parallel dimensions, why can’t I talk to another person like a human being?
Amal Sage and Ryuu have made noises about coming over this week so I decided to run out to the grocery store. It’s nice to have an excuse to buy fancy ingredients for yummy food that I wouldn’t normally make when I’m by myself. A normal simple trip to the grocery store. It shouldn’t be anything special right?
Except that I never leave the house anymore. Deities, I don’t even feel like a person anymore. I went outside to collect my mail the other day and my neighbor was outside. She tried to start up a conversation about her garden. I just stared at her. A garden? How could I talk about something as simple as a garden? There is no simple anymore. It’s all crazed murderers and cosmic horrors, broken hearts and tragic deaths.
There is no such thing as a simple trip to the grocery store. It involves a couple of hours of going back and forth, arguing with myself. Telling myself that I can spend the extra money to shop online and have it delivered, that I don’t need to go out and deal with a world that doesn’t make sense to me anymore. And then reminding myself that I only have a few months left on my severance package and I need to save every penny I’ve got. After I get the finances argument out of the way I then have to spend at least an hour dragging my feet about getting in the shower, doing something with the bird’s nest that sits on top of my head. I may not be a very pretty woman, but I do have some vanity. All in all, my morning trip to the grocery ended up waiting until the early evening.
The trip itself should have been uneventful. Except for me cringing as I drove past the shadows the ever so artfully placed trees on the main strip cast. Except for me driving around the parking lot three different times as I again argued with myself about whether or not I really needed to go inside. After a bit I just got so damn mad at myself that I parked the car and grabbed a cart.
Everything seemed to be going alright at first. I did what any person does, went down the aisles with my shopping list and picked up the things I needed. About as normal as anyone could ask for right? Or at least it was until someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I jumped and amazingly did not shriek for once. Instead I spun around and aimed a kick for my would be attacker’s leg. And to my utter shock it landed and he jumped backwards, yelping in pain. He looked at me, raised his hands in surrender, and said “Shit I’m sorry!”
The first thing I noticed was that he wearing a business suit. I used to actually like the way business suits looked on men. Now I think I might prefer the sweats and t-shirt look. The second thing I noticed was that he was holding my wallet above his head.
My hands went to my purse and the guy grinned at me sheepishly. “It fell out of your bag. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Feeling like a complete idiot, I began apologizing profusely for attacking him. And instead of being outraged like he should have been he smiled at me.
“Well honestly I was kind of following you.” I stiffened and got ready to swing my purse at him.
“I spent the past ten minutes trying to figure out how to say hello to you and maybe convince you to talk to me long enough to give me your phone number. The wallet falling on the ground seemed like a perfect opportunity. I’m Ryan. And you are?”
So what did the confident intelligent female that I am supposed to be do? I stared at him like he had grown a second head. And he just smiled at me. He wasn’t seeing a woman that needed to be protected or a pet to abuse or a tool that had something he needed. For the first time in a very long time I was just being looked at as a woman. And I had no idea what to do.
“So how about it?” he asked, still smiling.
“How about what?” I asked, blinking in confusion.
“Your name. And maybe your phone number if I haven’t completely scared you off,” he said, still smiling at me as if he was talking to someone that had a working brain. He reached out, offering me my wallet with one hand and pulled out a cell phone with his other.
“Please? I’m a decent guy. I know I must look fairly pretentious dressed like this, but I just got out of work, hence the monkey suit. I swear I don’t always dress up just to go the grocery store. “
Faceless Eldritch Abomination? Easy. Giant tree with blood pouring from its eyes making my skull explode? Been there done that! Man asks me for my phone number and I couldn’t think of anything to do besides stand there and stutter like a moron.
So I gave him my phone number. I couldn’t think of anything else to do that would let me get on the checkout line and out of the grocery store without causing any worse of a scene then I already had by attacking him. Which yes, giving him my info was pretty dumb. I mean it’s not as if I’m actually going to go out with him. I can’t have that kind of life, not even before the cosmic horror. I’m just not meant for that. Never was. How many of the men in my life end up dead or just disappear never to be seen again?
I would make a great date wouldn’t I? Want to see my scars from where I was tortured? Let me tell you about the time I vacationed in another dimension where I was chased by giant leeches. Let me introduce you to my chaperone, the faceless wonder.
Somehow I don’t think it would go over well.
The Mad Ventriloquist hasn't left his house for five years. He has a job he can do on the computer. He knows someone who will buy beer for him. He has found himself comfortable with this life.ReplyDelete
It is hard to go out into the world after things happy. The Mad Ventriloquist never could. But perhaps Kay could. She is a strong woman, and she deserves a good life. Perhaps she could never truly date Ryan, but she can go to the grocery store. She can talk to others. She can live.
The Mad Ventriloquist would not know what to do if a man asked for his phone number.
Kay, I'm actually quite proud of you. I don't know how well this'll end up, but it's healthier if you plan for the long-term. And my long-term I mean an actual life. With a job and a boyfriend and all the rest. Maybe it won't happen, but there's no reason you shouldn't try for it.ReplyDelete
this could be good for you
If you are scared you are still alive
I remember being like that a few years back. I'm so sorry. :( You learn to cope eventually.ReplyDelete
He could just as easily be an agent using the same tactics I do to get close to enough to targets so he can eliminate them. Giving him your phone number could prove to be a costly mistake, and you know you could have just as easily turned him down.ReplyDelete
Just thought I should point out the possibility.
@Elaine/Cam It is what it is, right?ReplyDelete
@TMV Your support is sweet. Thanks.
@Ryuu Sweetie, there is no long term for people like us anymore. We were doomed the second we opened our web browsers.
@Maurice I'm always scared. Your boss is good for that.
@Amalga I'm coping. But coping isn't living, is it?
@X Hence why I am not particularly worried about the cell phone number that is connected to a PO Box. Of course he if wants to stalk the Post Office where the box is located, he is more then welcome.
Those are pretty good conversation starters, though.ReplyDelete
And, well. There's another side to this. Nobody is going to be able to be normal, but we'll be able to function. Just gotta keep going, right?
I find it amusing that you're more uncomfortable with people being friendly than threatening...or at least you probably are, considering this post of yours.ReplyDelete
Have some fun, Kay. You desreve fun.
Just because there isn't a long term doesn't mean we shouldn't pretend there is.ReplyDelete
I'll tell you what I told Nick once: My current life - my job, my family, my college career - that's all plan B. But it is a magnificent, happy, and brilliantly well thought-out plan B. It is SO well thought-out, in fact, that it could almost pass for plan A. And I'll always know in my heart what the real plan A is (something not nearly so pleasant or lasting), but that by no means means I can't take enjoyment out of the facade I put up for my family. Indeed, it makes the facade even better, because you can't fake happiness. That part has to be genuine.
(This weekend I went to a camp of mine ['family' do those pretty often at summer] and many of my patners and brothers greet me for my returning. I felt sad because I know I cant pass to many time with them, but still, I tried to enjoy the weekend for them)ReplyDelete