Stalking Charlie
Tuesday, May 11
So it's been about a week since my run-in with her. Not too much has happened since then, much to my distress. I think the song that most describes my mood right now could be "I don't want to miss a thing" by Aerosmith, but that's up for debate of course. :(
It really gets me, the way she acts, because after that day everything went back to normal. I mean, you'd expect that when I hold the door open for her or walk past her in the hallway, she'd at least acknowledge my presence or say hello. This small-town high school has what, less than three hundred people in it? I mean, you really have to go out of your way to ignore somebody like that.
But enough Charlie talk - I'm getting a little sick of it. Sick of her...
My dad!
Christ, that guy can hold a grudge for the longest fucking time!
"Get a job, Maxine." ,He says. "When are you going to get a job? Maxine, why don't you have a job? Maxine! Maxiiiiinnnneeeee!"
I quit working as a bag-person or whatever at the grocery store a couple weeks ago (it was boring, ugh!) So now there's about 50 dollars less in the money pool for his bi-weekly poker games with the only two friends he's ever had since beginning (and soon thereafter, inevitably discontinuing) his own personal social life. And now he's all ticked at me for it.
My bad. Bagging some gross old lady's wheat bread and skim milk all day wasn't really working out for me. I think its dead-end, mindless jobs like bagging groceries that can turn people into zombies. It's true. I've seen it.
But Charlie.
Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. She's on my mind lately. Jumping around, smashing pots, pans, and noisemakers against the sides of my skull day in and day out. Not to sound like some creeper, though. But damn, sometimes you can't help but think about a girl you know? I'm not getting soft or anything. I'm just a very focused individual with some badass tunnel vision for the task at hand. I've still got my eyes on the prize, baby.
-Max
It really gets me, the way she acts, because after that day everything went back to normal. I mean, you'd expect that when I hold the door open for her or walk past her in the hallway, she'd at least acknowledge my presence or say hello. This small-town high school has what, less than three hundred people in it? I mean, you really have to go out of your way to ignore somebody like that.
But enough Charlie talk - I'm getting a little sick of it. Sick of her...
My dad!
Christ, that guy can hold a grudge for the longest fucking time!
"Get a job, Maxine." ,He says. "When are you going to get a job? Maxine, why don't you have a job? Maxine! Maxiiiiinnnneeeee!"
I quit working as a bag-person or whatever at the grocery store a couple weeks ago (it was boring, ugh!) So now there's about 50 dollars less in the money pool for his bi-weekly poker games with the only two friends he's ever had since beginning (and soon thereafter, inevitably discontinuing) his own personal social life. And now he's all ticked at me for it.
My bad. Bagging some gross old lady's wheat bread and skim milk all day wasn't really working out for me. I think its dead-end, mindless jobs like bagging groceries that can turn people into zombies. It's true. I've seen it.
But Charlie.
Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. She's on my mind lately. Jumping around, smashing pots, pans, and noisemakers against the sides of my skull day in and day out. Not to sound like some creeper, though. But damn, sometimes you can't help but think about a girl you know? I'm not getting soft or anything. I'm just a very focused individual with some badass tunnel vision for the task at hand. I've still got my eyes on the prize, baby.
-Max