Diary of an Unorthadox Pedophile

Right now I'm sitting in my car across the street from work, wondering whether I can bare to show my face again, even if nobody knows what happened last night. I already feel like everyone's waiting to judge me, just like Cherokee did, and just like how everyone I'll ever know will. Maybe I'll reveal this episode of "The Sad Life of Jonathan Hayes" later, if I don't fucking leave town first.