Black As My Soul: I Don't Want It

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October 23, 2004

I Don't Want It

Or I do.

But I don't.

You see, it's all about me.

A very young girl at work seems to be—and this is my perception—unduly concerned about me.

One night this last week she was in the store with a friend of hers after her shift. She assumed a goofy voice and asked me where to find the erotica.

Heh... On my blog, darling....

When I turned to look at her she walked quickly away from me shouting "I'm joking!"

Leave me alone.

This has got to be one of the things in my life that I haven't learned to deal with, because it keeps coming up.

She can't be twenty, yet.

And, if I may be cruel, she's not pretty.

Although I did notice her pink t-shirt today. And the fact that her low-rise jeans revealed ink on her spine. Either a kangaroo or the Kangol logo. I'm too unhip to be certain.

She seemed to have traded positions in the store tonight to work with me at the registers. Yet she didn't talk to me much except to bark corrective steps when I seemed to be in violation of standard procedure.

It pisses me off that I notice. That I have this gut feeling that's what's happening.

But, I want to be wanted.

At the end of the night, everyone leaves the store together.

I made a point of not saying good bye to anyone. I just made a beeline to my car.

It's all about me.

"stoneface"

You are the only one who knows I think this shit. I never show my hand.

"...The Great and Powerful Oz!"

Nevermind the man behind the curtain.

Frankly, the most alluring woman in the store is... I think a housewife and mother. But I think she would like to be hip and cool again. Wouldn't we all? She wears nice dresses and skirts with Doc-Martin-like shoes. You know... could be funky, but you can tell she's trying.

I think she's pretty conservative—thinking some vanilla stuff is pretty racy. Makes me wonder what it might be like to turn her sexual world upside down.

She's a little of a flirt. Which is fine. But in the end... I'm not all that interested in her, either.

Am I super ill?

I completely think about every woman I interact with in terms of sexual compatibility.

There's another really young girl there who talks a lot and it seems to be about how unusual shethinks she is. I like it because I think I make her nervous, which makes her want to cover it up by talking.

In my mind's eye, I could see me grabbing a handful of her long straight hair, forcing her to her knees, and thrusting my cock in her mouth.

That's just at the one job...

I think sexually about the women at my day job, too.

There are two beautiful african-american women.

And I'm sort of attracted to the pregnant white woman who talks like she's black. She wears tall mules all the time. I get kind of a slutty vibe from her which I dig, despite that she's not very pretty, either.

Yeah. Well, I really know nothing about these people, but this is the level at which I exist.

It's on my mind.

A lot.

[+] Posted by Sinner, who was transgressing at the time (October 23, 2004 12:23 AM) by wanting evil. [+]