Thursday, March 17, 2016

Microstory 279: Perspective Fifty-Four

Perspective Fifty-Three

Oh my God, this guy who works at the hotel did not want to stop talking. Why do people always do that to me? Is it really just me, or do most people like talking to strangers? I went out to get a haircut the other day, and the guy sitting next to me while we were waiting made some remark about how often he has to do this. What about me says that I’m open to a conversation with someone I don’t know? I always have my headphones with me, and I was cursed with something called bitchy resting face. Basically, I always look pissed off, even when I’m not. And I promise that I’m usually not. I’m actually very easy-going; I just don’t like talking to people unless I have to. Wow, that sounds ludicrous when I say it out loud, doesn’t it? But this guy at the hotel. He’s complaining about a class they host in one of their event rooms. I don’t really care. It’s none of my business. The airline screwed up my flight, and so I’m stuck here. It’s actually awesome, because I’ve never been so free. My parents aren’t all that strict, but they are always around. I was planning to eat whatever I want, and order some porn on the TV, and perhaps get room service without eating any of it. It’s all paid for by the airline, so what do I care? But now my plans are suddenly changing, and I become grateful for how long the hotel guy was talking to me. I’m in an elevator with a pretty girl in a sexy tight yellow shirt. She’s speaking to me in what’s clearly a totally fake British accent, asking me if I’ve ever jumped in an elevator. If she were really British, she would call it a lift. I carefully consider my words as I look at her funny. Hey girl, no. Giirrrllll, definitely not that. Shit. What’s a good line that doesn’t sound like a line? I should have checked out that pickup artist class. Holy crap, how do you talk to girls! Maybe I should have gotten more practice talking to others so I wouldn’t just be standing here silent, like a freak. Maybe the guy at the hair place knew that. Maybe he was God, nudging me towards my destiny. Maybe the hotel guy is too. And I’m wasting the opportunity. What if I have the chance to hook up with this girl? What if she’s my future wife? What if she knows a celebrity? Wait, where is she going? This isn’t my floor. Nooooo!

Perspective Fifty-Five

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