Let it be known that the author of this story is a magnet who attracts the oddest of responses from even the most isolated strangers of the world. I’m not certain just exactly how this occurs, perhaps God misinterpreted my usual facial expressions as an affront in some way that I’ll never understand no matter how much time passes by. This is the sort of story that needs to start at the beginning, and without understanding who I am the point of this whole piece of writing would probably be lost.
Then again, considering I am an isolated, reclusive man who has fantasies of finding true romance and love in a culture swallowed up by sex, drugs and constant partying the point of this work is bound to find its way into a person’s asshole and be lost forever.
I don’t remember what time it was when this happened but I assume it’s when all the young fools of the world get out of high school, so around three o’clock give or take. Being the bad person that I am I wanted to procure some nourishment from the nearby mall and get on with my day despite knowing Burger King isn’t what you’d usually call normal food. When I entered the mall it was as uselessly spacious as I remembered considering the several dozen times I’d been in there. I think it was one of those days people hated, maybe Monday or Sunday seeing as there were barely any people around.
Since I have a low self-esteem I can’t help but to wonder what people are thinking when I cross eyes with them. I tend to slouch but yet there’s this aggressive stance I put on that I don’t necessarily realize until someone calls me out on it – if anyone actually does. I also tend to have the most depressing expression plastered to my face, and I automatically assume anyone who lays eyes on me will choke out of pure sympathy and die right on the spot. Unfortunately people don’t realize this is my normal face and if anyone actually died they would do so in vain.
I went to a private high school so I was wearing khakis and a suit shirt with a tie wrapped around my neck like a boa constrictor. My shoes were black and they hurt, period. I think it was cold because I also wore a black, furry fleece but can’t be certain since I’ve always worn that particular article of clothing ever since my father purchased it for me. Now if you would, imagine this young man with a face so full of accidental sorrow walking towards the Burger King section of the food court so he can get some greasy, unhealthy food and then be on his way to do who knows what.
Now imagine two young ladies walking up to him and forcing him to smile.
I’m not sure what possessed these women to do what they did. Did God misinterpret another one of my facial expressions? Was I about to get punk’d and see Ashton Kutcher waltz around the corner with a camera crew? In this particularly wretched moment of time and space it felt like every stranger within a one-thousand mile radius had their eyes on me, rubbing me with their pupils and slathering me with icky fluids without even realizing it.
At first I thought I recognized these woman. After shooing away that impossible thought I began to wonder if they mistook me for my brother since he’s usually so popular. It was then after a few more seconds of them literally blabbering nonsense to me that none of the above were correct and that they were trying to acquire my specific attention. There was no mistake of recognition, they just wanted my attention for some reason.
I started to feel worried as I studied their facial features working in motion. If I didn’t know any better – and I still don’t to this day – I thought they were casting some hex on me. I know I’ve made mistakes during my childhood but I never went out of my way to bother others, at least I tried not to but my luck reveled in screaming out misinterpretations for people to assume as fact. By the time I realized it I was smiling.
I remember uttering how stupid they looked. However they just giggled and walked away. Did I just get forced to smile without my explicit consent? Was this some mental raping tactic? I felt uneasy after collecting my thoughts and retrieving my usual expression. Do I look that miserable to people? If this event has anything to do with the way I look I can definitely say yes. Not one but two strangers who I’ve never made contact with nor ever even been acquainted with in sight walks up to another stranger and attempts to make him smile.
Is it better to find truth or revel in ignorance? When I think on this day I can’t help but to wonder what their intentions were. Knowing my self-esteem I can only think I looked so miserable that two selfless strangers took the time and energy to show me that life wasn’t all bad. But it’s here that no one realizes ignorance and truth break into two separate ends of a rope. If there’s anything I remember, anything at all about that day it was that I was going to eat, go home, and then snuggle contently into my computer chair and play video games.
Perhaps I am in error to assume those ladies were “selfless” strangers. Whatever reasons ulterior or otherwise have vanished to ash and no more answers lie with me today. I only understand that I have a good reason to accuse them of terrible deeds because they followed some impulse in their brains even though they knew nothing about me.
I’ve got nothing against smiling. My smiles are meant to be cherished, not used and abused. If a stranger goes out of his or her way to make me smile then I can only consider that an act of cruel intent. Though if I think on it more I’d probably call them a bully too. I could spend my days wondering why I remember this particular day so fondly but then I’d be wasting a lot of time when I could be doing something better. The thing is since I seem to attract bullies, odd people and selfless strangers so often I can’t help but to be curious about their intentions.
I guess this is one of those moments where a person says “Fuck it” and repeatedly stabs their self-esteem with a bowie knife of ignorant closure. Who the hell knows who’s in the right; whatever reasons anyone has, whatever they’re feeling or not, why ever people do the things they do will only be a mystery to everyone but themselves. I just gotta stab that one guy in the very dark corner of my mind and tell him to shut up; I already have a low self-esteem, I don’t need him to gawk at me and shove further uncertainty towards the rest of my brain.