I am at my job, working the cash register. I am not technically supposed to be working this job, but I switched out with the actual manager because he hates people and I hate organizing the boxes. It is Tuesday at eleven o'clock. No one is here. Not even the serious shopaholics will start showing up until twelve or one, when they get out on lunch break. I am bored out of my mind. I am re-reading Atlas Shrugged under the counter for the sixth or seventh time. My coworker, an abnormally tall, abnormally skinny, abnormally fabulous Asian man, is singing under his breadth. I wish fervently that I had remembered my Ipod. I curse my little sister for her inability to be on time for anything, forcing me to rush.
The bell rings, meaning someone has come through the door. I glance up, noting only that the person is male that he is not coming towards the counter as of yet, meaning I an not required to care in the slightest. I am sure that my coworker will help him if necessary. He's a natural people pleaser.
I read through a full paragraph of Atlas Shrugged before something clicks into place behind my eyes, and my brain suddenly recognizes the familiar form. I look up slowly from beneath lowered lashes, and suddenly feel like running from the room. It is the boy who was not there on the beach today. Part of me is perfectly aware that I am overreacting, that I am being stupid, that this boy does not even know or recognize me, that this sudden fear and quickening heartbeat is entirely irrational. For once, I completely ignore this part of me, and try to shrink back into my chair.
I am afraid of him. I am afraid of the way he moves. I am afraid of the way he looks. I am afraid that he will smile, I am afraid that he will frown. I am afraid of his recognition, and I am afraid of his dismissal.
I am predatory by nature. I do not react well to being afraid. I feel my hackles rise. I fell myself becoming angry, that this one creature could threaten me so.
I realize that I cannot possibly be this irrational, and I try to calm myself down. I convince myself to be calm, to be civil, to just do my job, because i do not even know this one, stupid boy.
The bell rings, meaning someone has come through the door. I glance up, noting only that the person is male that he is not coming towards the counter as of yet, meaning I an not required to care in the slightest. I am sure that my coworker will help him if necessary. He's a natural people pleaser.
I read through a full paragraph of Atlas Shrugged before something clicks into place behind my eyes, and my brain suddenly recognizes the familiar form. I look up slowly from beneath lowered lashes, and suddenly feel like running from the room. It is the boy who was not there on the beach today. Part of me is perfectly aware that I am overreacting, that I am being stupid, that this boy does not even know or recognize me, that this sudden fear and quickening heartbeat is entirely irrational. For once, I completely ignore this part of me, and try to shrink back into my chair.
I am afraid of him. I am afraid of the way he moves. I am afraid of the way he looks. I am afraid that he will smile, I am afraid that he will frown. I am afraid of his recognition, and I am afraid of his dismissal.
I am predatory by nature. I do not react well to being afraid. I feel my hackles rise. I fell myself becoming angry, that this one creature could threaten me so.
I realize that I cannot possibly be this irrational, and I try to calm myself down. I convince myself to be calm, to be civil, to just do my job, because i do not even know this one, stupid boy.
