Trouble at the laundry...
I'm picking up laundry this weekend. Gotta keep the uniforms pressed, boots shined, blah blah blah! I'm standing in line minding my business. Arm full of clothes ready for drop off. There he was Chocolate Trouble...this town is too fucking small. I turned my head because he hadn't seen me and I hoped he would take his shit and roll out. I finished my task,dropped off the wrinkled and picked up the pressed.
He was waiting at my truck, driving the hubsters because I fill up his gas tank on the week ends. He sticks his hands in his pockets and moves aside as I place everything on a hook in the back seat. I don't say a word to him, I open my door and step up into the drivers seat. He tells me he's seen me around but didn't want to seem stalkerish. This town is too fucking small! I put my key in the ignition and try to shut my door. He stammers out an apology. He's holding on to the door. I tell him I don't want his apology I just want him to go away. He just smiles at me and shakes his head. Then he tells me he knows he stepped over the line and he knows why I'm pissed. I just look at him and pull on the door. He holds the door and tells me he's not a bad person but when he saw my pain he felt like he knew me in a way. I tell him he doesn't know me and doesn't know anything about me and if he was trying to fuck me he went about it all wrong. He laughs and asks me if there's a right way to go about it. I laugh in spite of myself because he's got me on principle. I tell him only a select few know the right way and he will never be one of them. He smiles again. I smile back because it's free and I can see he's really trying to do what he feels is the right thing. I wish we could be friends he tells me and lets go of the door. I tell him if that was what he really wanted he would've been more respectful and not treated it as a game he was trying to win. Then he shoves his hands in his pockets and steps away from me. He calls me by my first name which I never gave him and tells me to take care. I turn up my Anthony Hamilton and head home to the one who really knows me.
He was waiting at my truck, driving the hubsters because I fill up his gas tank on the week ends. He sticks his hands in his pockets and moves aside as I place everything on a hook in the back seat. I don't say a word to him, I open my door and step up into the drivers seat. He tells me he's seen me around but didn't want to seem stalkerish. This town is too fucking small! I put my key in the ignition and try to shut my door. He stammers out an apology. He's holding on to the door. I tell him I don't want his apology I just want him to go away. He just smiles at me and shakes his head. Then he tells me he knows he stepped over the line and he knows why I'm pissed. I just look at him and pull on the door. He holds the door and tells me he's not a bad person but when he saw my pain he felt like he knew me in a way. I tell him he doesn't know me and doesn't know anything about me and if he was trying to fuck me he went about it all wrong. He laughs and asks me if there's a right way to go about it. I laugh in spite of myself because he's got me on principle. I tell him only a select few know the right way and he will never be one of them. He smiles again. I smile back because it's free and I can see he's really trying to do what he feels is the right thing. I wish we could be friends he tells me and lets go of the door. I tell him if that was what he really wanted he would've been more respectful and not treated it as a game he was trying to win. Then he shoves his hands in his pockets and steps away from me. He calls me by my first name which I never gave him and tells me to take care. I turn up my Anthony Hamilton and head home to the one who really knows me.
posted by Poetry @ 11:35 AM
1 Comments:
At November 28, 2006 10:32 AM,
Bananas said…
Heeeez a stalker. Just tell him he's ugly and his clothes don't match. That'll send him home cryin' too Mommy.
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