“ ‘Overly’? Jesus, you look like shit, girl. If you had some confidence, any at all, you think that would be ‘overly’?”, his voice was condescending, and there was a look of calm detachment in his eyes. It was like tourette’s, but completely controlled. He never said anything he wasn’t willing to say. Modesty was something for generations past, “ I know you’re lying, you wish you had the guts to bitch slap me right here”, and at that point, his tone changed completely, accompanied by an egotistical smirk, “ I’d like to see you do it, and I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. I’m sitting right there.”
That was nasty look, she hadn’t even given one, but for a brief moment, he felt as if she held nothing but pure maliciousness for him, and this took place before he opened his mouth a second time. It was strange, but something was off, and he could feel it. A brief thought of whether she held this kind of emotion before the change fluttered into his mind, and instantly left. He still had a headache, it was probably his imagination. He blinked. But still…
She was probably a barracuda. He’d seen it all before, and it was the same old story. A guy would go looking where he wasn’t wanted, and find himself a female that wasn’t quite used to attention. Logically, she should have been easy, desperate for any kind of attention after being deprived of it for so long. But, then again, that was logic, and these were chicks. Inevitably, the guy would find himself in the exact same situation he’d be in with any other chick. What didn’t work for one, wouldn’t work for any of them. It was ignorant to think that in generality, but Mark was thinking of specifics. If a guy had to go into some kind of pseudo-logic to find a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have any luck, ever. It was a depressing thought, but a chick like this would ensnare some guy with those needle teeth they all had. And she looked so helpless. No, they were never helpless.
So it was just a waste being shy.
With a single, smooth motion, he turned, grabbing the tray of food, and continued to his table. It was strange though, it wasn’t often someone answered a stranger’s question that wasn’t obviously intended for them. Then again, he wasn’t that much of a stranger. He took another sip of the black coffee. Like bitter hand-soap, he hated McDonald’s coffee, but as long as it was there, and as long as it was cheap… He came up to the table just in time to hear the conclusion to David’s lunchtime speech.
“ God damn, big boy, keep it in your pants. You drop my name and go into this passion-driven declaration of submission? Forgive me if I suggest your affections are a bit misplaced, but you’re really not my type”, he casually placed the tray and slid into his own seat. David was probably a fan of looking in places he wasn’t wanted, but it was too bad about his destiny. Still, it was depressing to think about.
He liked David about as much as anybody did, or about as much as David liked anybody. He’d been awake for about an hour and already he had felt a cold tension beneath words or expression coming from most of the people he’d seen that day. Of course, most of it was called for, especially that first one he had felt that morning, but somehow, he felt like he hadn’t deserved all of it. He dropped the thought as quickly as it came, it didn’t matter, and he didn’t care. He had but one life to live, and he wasn’t going to waste the rest of it trying to right wrongs. That would take far longer than he intended to live.
“ So, what’s the business climate looking like, Gatsby?”, just then, he was glad he had read the book. For that single comment, those hours were not wasted. Now if only someone would get the entire connection. He took another sip of soap.
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