Punk
ONE.
City night life can either give someone a sensation of excitement, or annoy the hell out of them. Today it was just pissing me off. I was on the balcony of my third floor apartment and gulping my hard black coffee staring at all the pathetic people. I looked down the street looking for my prey to bash on. I heard loud clanking of heels, and my ears perked up like when a cat can hear a mouse. I sniffed the air and smelled strong perfume, and I mean really strong perfume if I can smell it three stories up. Then I heard voices. Really nostrily,
annoying, and pathetic voices, discussing about some girl.
“Yahhhh. Can you believe that she would just wear that? I mean, why would you wear such trashy stud earrings?”
“Yah, I know!” chorused a flock of girls.
I groaned to myself and sipped some more coffee. How could God create such people that judge others on such tiny thing such as earrings?
I leaned on the edge and lit a cigarette, trying to look casual as I wanted to check them out. I saw five bleached blonde heads looking up in unison. “Got a problem?” I asked down at them. I was kind of nervous that all that perfume and my lit cigarette were going to combust.
One looked up snapped her gum,” Can you not smoke that above us? You’ll make us smell.”
I blew out a puff of smoke down at her. “I don’t know if that’s possible,” I said coolly resting against the rail, “I can smell the perfume overload from up here.”
“Shut up dyke.”
I laughed viciously inside my head and crunched the cigarette on the railing, then threw it down at them. I heard them squeal like a flock of seagulls.
“How am I a dyke?” I asked them curiously.
“You’re not girly”
“But I am a girl.”
“You’re wearing black.”
“Black never goes out of style.”
I leaned down on the railing and spat. They looked like a bunch of grossed out little pandas. Their eyeliner was so thick.
They hailed a cab and left.
I settled back down on my comfy chair and was on the lookout for my new prey.
annoying, and pathetic voices, discussing about some girl.
“Yahhhh. Can you believe that she would just wear that? I mean, why would you wear such trashy stud earrings?”
“Yah, I know!” chorused a flock of girls.
I groaned to myself and sipped some more coffee. How could God create such people that judge others on such tiny thing such as earrings?
I leaned on the edge and lit a cigarette, trying to look casual as I wanted to check them out. I saw five bleached blonde heads looking up in unison. “Got a problem?” I asked down at them. I was kind of nervous that all that perfume and my lit cigarette were going to combust.
One looked up snapped her gum,” Can you not smoke that above us? You’ll make us smell.”
I blew out a puff of smoke down at her. “I don’t know if that’s possible,” I said coolly resting against the rail, “I can smell the perfume overload from up here.”
“Shut up dyke.”
I laughed viciously inside my head and crunched the cigarette on the railing, then threw it down at them. I heard them squeal like a flock of seagulls.
“How am I a dyke?” I asked them curiously.
“You’re not girly”
“But I am a girl.”
“You’re wearing black.”
“Black never goes out of style.”
I leaned down on the railing and spat. They looked like a bunch of grossed out little pandas. Their eyeliner was so thick.
They hailed a cab and left.
I settled back down on my comfy chair and was on the lookout for my new prey.