Status: I knew of her
Out there Where the Ocean is Blue
Third Inning
I wouldn't call myself fat but I loved food. So, when I found myself pigging out in my favorite dinner on my favorite day of the week – Friday, my payday - and a blue headed women walks in mid-stuffing my face full of fires and pizza and I’m on my way to an ice-cream sundae. I can’t help but feel embarrassed and fat and shameful because I still didn't know way I wanted to talk to her and I didn't think her seeing me act like a pig would help me reach that goal any sooner. Swallowing the food in my mouth and reaching for a napkin to wipe my face I stared down at my messy plate, my face turning hot. I didn't know how, but over the yelling, laughing, and loudly shouted orders to the cooks behind the little square window right behind the cash register I could hear her placing her order. And I hate myself for listening harder when I hear her voice.
They talk back and forth for a little while, talking about the day’s specials and what the hairy man behind the register would recommend before she finally orders picking the raspberry mocha cheesecake. He tells her it’ll be a little while before it’s done and I wish that the dinner was more well-known as I watch her sit so far away from me in the half full dinner because then I could’ve asked her to sit next to me when I saw her stumbling around for a place to sit as she waited for her food and we would've talked and became friends and I would've found out what it was I wanted from her but none of that happens because this place has really good food but very crappy advertisement, them calling out her done order is what pulls me from my musing.
I watch as she goes up to pay – no doubt over tipping again - grab the bag with her cheesecake in it and walk towards the door – the door I’m sitting right next to – and leave without glancing at me once.
I didn't know what bothered me more, the fact that she didn't even notice me even though she couldn't walk within a five meter ratios without me noticing her or the fact that when I got up to leave after being too upset with losing another chance to talk to her that I lost my appetite or the fact that I let a women I didn't even know get to me this much.
They talk back and forth for a little while, talking about the day’s specials and what the hairy man behind the register would recommend before she finally orders picking the raspberry mocha cheesecake. He tells her it’ll be a little while before it’s done and I wish that the dinner was more well-known as I watch her sit so far away from me in the half full dinner because then I could’ve asked her to sit next to me when I saw her stumbling around for a place to sit as she waited for her food and we would've talked and became friends and I would've found out what it was I wanted from her but none of that happens because this place has really good food but very crappy advertisement, them calling out her done order is what pulls me from my musing.
I watch as she goes up to pay – no doubt over tipping again - grab the bag with her cheesecake in it and walk towards the door – the door I’m sitting right next to – and leave without glancing at me once.
I didn't know what bothered me more, the fact that she didn't even notice me even though she couldn't walk within a five meter ratios without me noticing her or the fact that when I got up to leave after being too upset with losing another chance to talk to her that I lost my appetite or the fact that I let a women I didn't even know get to me this much.