'Oh for Fucks Sake' and 'Porcelain Cock'.

So I hate my job right? Of course. Everybodys job sucks. Unless you are pussy inspector at Abbey Winters or camel toe creator of jailbaitgallery.com, then i guess your job would be awesome. True, I do serve pretty girls all day but as my inner tormentor tells me, they don't know me and never will. Just then i served two very pretty girls who i had laughing outrageously at my 'rave dancing'. They won't be back to see me though, they might come back for the clothes but that's it.

Uagh. The intro to this is awful. I wrote this a few days ago but stopped and have started again. I'm in a dangerous situation where i really want to write but i don't quite know what to write about. I have this pressure inside me that seems to be screaming like a kettle to be let off the heat, but i have no where to put it, i feel like i will just be left standing there, holding a jug of water that i have boiled for no reason, waiting for it to cool.

Trying to force yourself to write, and write something good, is like squeezing a blind pimple, you know, a pimple without a head. Like a big red lump. I don't know how aggressive you all are towards your skin, but i hunt my black heads down like panther. I'll go for anything. Sometimes with these blind pimples, the big ones, it can be a hit or miss scenario. Sometimes you labour in vain and all you get is watery eyes and a clear pus of no substance at all and other times there is an explosion out of your face onto the mirror and the relief is so palpable it feels like your skin just took a shit.


Porcelain Cock.

Did i ever tell you about how i was in love with that 17 year old burns victim? No? Maybe i did and you just didn't believe me, it's ok, I took some convincing myself. I fell though, in the end, i fell completely and totally in love with her.

So I guess here's where i flesh out the details but i really don't know what to say. I met her at work, of course, I mean, where else do i meet women. So i used to serve her, no, wait, how about this.

The very first time i ever saw her I was walking back to work from the fish and chip shop and i must have had my head down because i remember lifting it up and seeing a girl walking towards me. She must have been 10 feet away from me and i could see that her whole neck, shoulders and upper arms were scarred, if you need a visual reference, and i hate to say it, but think of Freddy Kruger. Her face was untouched and the first thing i though was "My god, that poor girl, how hard her life must be" but before i had even finished the sentence in my head she flashed me one of the most beautiful smiles that i have ever seen.
I was stunned and perplexed and felt stupid. Her smile was so life affirming and so genuine and here i was thinking that she must spend her whole life wishing that she were dead. I felt like a retard that knows nothing of human experience. For some reason, I expect people to fail all the time, when confronted with hardship, i expect them to roll over and die. I would say that possibly it has to do with faith in people. I say, unflinchingly and honestly, that generally i have none.

Here I considered going into more detail about just how badly she had been burnt, but i decided against it. Call it dignity and let it be hers.

Anyway, so later that day i served her and then i served her again some other time then again and again and soon i had quite a crush in her. I found out that she was only 17 so i kept all my flirting clean and wholesome. I kid you not. No leering, no talking about sex, none of this. I was, in truth, very charming. Jesus, listen to me suck my own cock.

Through out all of this i was thinking constantly about her. She was a very special young lady, there is no doubt of that at all. I could not work out if it was pity or lust that was propelling me when, about six months later, i asked for her number.
"Finally!" she said, and gleefully gave it.

I called her once but she was having lunch with her mum, i said call me back and we'll arrange something. She never did, and when she came into work about a week later she had a friend with her. I did not want to say anything in front of the friend, so i kept it causal and sweet. Call it massive paranoia that stopped me from hitting on a 17yr old girl in front of company. I told her again, "So give me a bell if you wanna catch up" and then went about my work.
Afterwards, a work colleague asked me what she had done wrong. I was confused.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
They were like "Well, it just seemed like you were really cold and callous towards that girl just now".
"Are you shitting me?" I replied. "I have a crush on that girl."
"Well..." they said, and then they just kind of trailed off.
I had inadvertently fucked it and i only ever saw her once again, and on that occasion, our interaction was nothing but perfunctory.


WRITERS NOTE.

I am reading 'Sex drugs and cocoa-puffs' by Chuck Klosterman at them moment on a friends advice. It is very good, i can not deny it, but i think that ultimately it will be one of those books that i read that in turn makes me question my own ability and integrity. How do i feel about myself as a person? Let me tell you this, the other night i was smoking a joint and i had a sudden and desperate urge to plunge the burning end into my eye. My hand even raised, but i stilled it.