|Emily AC: Multi-Talented Comedian||
So!!! I was overjoyed when my husband came home!!! So was kitty-cat... she showed it off by acting like a diva!!!
I burst into the house, "Tater!" *excited meow-question* "Tater! Daddy's home!!! "
My kitty emerged from the spot in the closet she had been secluding herself for days. It took me a bit to realize that she'd missed my husband so much. This is why she had been choosing to sleep in the closet, as well.
When I realized she was sleeping there because some of my husband's clothes were on the floor, I grabbed one of his military shirts that he wears a lot and put it over her like a blanket and pet her.
She started purring very loudly. She opened and closed her eyes, lovingly. She was happy I understood. I told her he would be home, soon.
So... when she started acting like a little brat as soon as he was home... when she showed pleasure upon learning of his return... I chastised her in English, only.
...This was so my husband would know what we were talking about.
"You go and see daddy! You have been depressed for days. You wanted him home so badly and barely did anything besides sleep in the closet."
*she turns her head, quickly, as my husband makes a noise in the kitchen putting things away*
"Don't go looking in daddy's direction to figure out what he's doing! Why don't you go ask him??? "
...Of course I taught my husband and children how to talk to animals, too!
Tater looked down in shame and anger. She brooded. My husband interrupted us...
"Why don't you go get your cigarettes so we can spend some time together ?" and we indulged in an invested embrace for a while.
I left the house listening to music and dancing in the street, again! So Happy to see my husband! Three weeks of fire-fighting... so... fucking... sexy... omg. They come home wearing the army duds, and everything... lugging their stuff like a big... strong... man should.
As I approached the liquor store, just across the street, I had the displeasure of another retarded driver... deciding to wait forever, instead of turning, when I'm fifteen feet away from being able to cross the fucking street.
I find that situation awkward... because I hate people just watching me that long... so I started running. I turned my head to the right as I crossed the street (of course)...
...and their was the rapist from the other night.
I knew where he was going... same place I was... he was an alcoholic and I knew it from the previous encounter.
I walked inside... turned to the right, out of habit... the clerk likes to tease me 'cuz he thinks I'm cute... calling me, "cutie "... which is fine. It just doesn't do you any good. I don't care, either way :) I flirt back, sometimes. But not with him. He's too pushy.
The coke was on the other side of the store... which I'd forgotten. I wanted to be quick without seeming rushed to the clerk. I didn't want an interaction with this man. I knew it wouldn't be the end of it.
I had to buy a drink for the clerk... he always sees me buying a drink... and sometimes cigarettes. I could not raise alarms to him by changing my pattern...
I located the coke... turned around... HELLO!!!
..."Did you hear what I said?" *in a mocking tone with a look of contempt *
I removed one of my ear buds and very calmly said, "No, I didn't. I'm sorry." In a dry tone with a blank face.
"I SAW YOU RUNNING ACROSS THE STREET..." *making taunting gestures and using a taunting-tease pattern in speech intonation*
"I'm, actually, desperate for cigarettes," *making a nod to the other night... when the fucker said he was desperate for a cigarette*
His face lit up, immediately, he switched gears...
*makes fist for bump* *I fist bump-him back and we both nod, squinting eyes at each other... mirroring up and down head movements*
...he acknowledged that he understands that I RECOGNIZED HIM, FIRST!!! AND HE... DOESN'T... SCARE... ME!!!
"Oh, I get you. I'm the same way."
"Aren't we all." I say... turning my back to him and going to the counter.
Well... the clerk wanted some attention. So I ask him for my brand. He knows where it is. He starts playing the bored-gas-station-attendant game of: 'oh... which pack of cigarettes? this one? this one? over here... you mean this one?' ...that only male clerks ever manage to play with me.
...either female convenience store clerks are 20-40 IQ points higher than all male clerks... or men fuck with women they like just 'cuz that's the only attention they ever get from them. It's cute. Just... bad timing, dude!
So... I'm finally being cutesy with this clerk... just as he's always wanted me to be with him... as a rapist that has already targeted me and knows where I live is up in my face and TAUNTING ME...
...and this why I say that some nice guys just aren't very observant...
So... the rapist has a chance to still heckle me...
"Oh... you get those HEALTHY cigarettes. " in reference to me purchasing natural, organic american spirits.
"I'm not so sure I'd say healthy ," I give him a sneer-smile and a low giggle...
"You just want to know what's in your cigarettes." He responds... looking like a normal human being for a second.
"I just don't want ammonia and formeldehyde in them." *he nods, slightly, in understanding* "...but I'm hooked because my lung capacity came back, as well as my singing voice. So if you like to sing you should try these." *referencing the cigarette butt I flicked at him that night--yes, AT HIM *
As I'm paying and putting my stuff in my bag...
"...you so healthy, though. You need to let a brother up in that." Yes, he fucking said that.
*with a look of disgust and a bitchy, low tone* "...I have a husband."
I walked slowly. Back always turned. Not stiffened up... very calmly, I walked away. I would not turn around to look at him, as he wished me to. I let him know--and he was smart enough to understand me--that I knew all about him, I wasn't afraid of him, and he'd better leave me alone.
...Because I don't want to hurt HIM.
Know that I've seen him in broad daylight... I know that he's a threat to most women... but not to me. AT ALL.
...I will NOT need a golf club when he comes around for me.
Why don't you call the police?
They'll laugh me out of the place.