vanity - short story

Doing her tricep curls in front of a mirror at the gym, she saw her reflection she nearly baulked.  What hideous thing looked back at her.  Something chubby and squat, with deep dark rings under the eyes making her look old and tired.  Her recently acquired tan looked blotchy.  It was enough to send a wave of instant depression over her and she wanted to run out of the gym so no one could see her.

The mood wasn't helped by the fact that her yearly membership was almost up and she couldn't see a single positive result from all that time at the gym.  Ok, she only managed to go 2 or 3 times a week spending 45mins there doing the program her trainer had set out for her.  She couldn't go at all over the school holidays so there were chunks of the year where she'd been inactive.  Still, she thought she'd see some improvement by now.  Some incentive to keep going.  Instead she wanted to go home and drown her sorrows in a sweet bar of chocolate.  Not that she ate chocolate much, it was just the principle of the thing.

After the tricep curls she moved to the push up machine that allowed her to sit while pushing weights that worked her chest.  There was a man on the machine to her right, another on a machine opposite her, a couple of ladies working with personal trainers who were looking at her.  The urge to crawl into a hole to not be seen was massive.  Closing her eyes while she complete her work out, thoughts of her life came flooding in.  She had a nice husband, nice kids, a nice home and car, money.  Life was good.  So why didn't she like herself?  Why wasn't she content with her lot?

She was aware she wasn't the most hideous thing in the world and she didn't judge unattractive people harshly.  No.  Judgement was saved solely for herself.  How did she end up this way?  For as long as she could remember her mum had called her vain anytime she expressed an interest (negative or positive) in her appearance.  In primary and high school she was aware that the more popular girls were not always more pretty than her and could never understand why boys didn't like her in that way.  Until after high school when she realised the popular girls put out and she wasn't the putting out type.  There were moments when she looked in the mirror and thought 'I'm not too bad, why don't boys like me'.  While other times, such as now at the gym, she couldn't fathom having left the house to be seen looking this bad.

It's true, there were moments lately where she had feelings of hating herself (her looks and body) so much so she wanted to die.  Best die now while things aren't as bad as they're going to get and the coroner is faced with a half attractive body instead of a baggy fat ugly body.  Which took her back to the time she was a cashier and a woman around 50 or 60 came to the counter and was telling the young girl how your body loses elastin as you age.  Giving a demo on her hands, the lady pinched her hands and showed how long it look for the skin to fall back down again.  Shock!  Horror!  Something like that scares the life out of you when you're young.

Leaving the gym before the session was complete, she decided a cool shower and a good dose of moisturiser was what she needed.  After her shower she looked at her self and thought, at least I have nice breasts.  Gotta have something about yourself you like.  The shower, the moisturiser, washing her hair, left her feeling more human.  And yet, as always, she wondered 'when will I like myself?'  Or better yet when will I realise looks don't matter and there's more to life and happiness, than how a person looks?

walk in the park in the dark #2

Her approach surprised them completely.  The girl in black coming up to them in the dark and saying hi like they were old friends she'd stumbled upon.  They asked her where she had come from and laughed as they said hi in return and asked if she'd like to join them.  If it's not too intrusive, she said not wanting to over step the boundaries.  They were cool with it and didn't mind an extra person.  Great.  She sat down at the picnic table with them.

They all introduced themselves.  Billy who was Chinese, though she spoke more Chinese than he did which told her he was born here and didn't speak his native tongue much.  Nick (she loved that name) was Philippian and just a little bit good looking with a radiant smile and friendly contagious personality.  Chris was Indian with a lean dark body and a mass of wavy dark hair.  The blond girl in the hoodie was Jenna.  Jenna walked over to the other picnic table when she, the new girl in black, arrived.  Apparently Jenna was tripping and wanted to be alone.  Although there were other people at the other picnic table, also shy and not joining in with the more talkative bunch.

Billy was the one who was the most chatty with her.  He wore a white shirt with a lilac tie (he told her the colour since she couldn't tell in the dark) and drove what he called a silver 'Beamer'.  Of course they asked what she was doing out and about at night time.  She couldn't sleep.  The rest of her house mates had gone to bed and she felt antsy and caged so she'd gone for a walk.

a walk in the park

They were all high school friends catching up after Billy's brothers wedding.  They didn't get to see each other often since leaving high school, a local Catholic school.  She loved the irony of Catholic school boys at a park in the dark smoking and drinking.  They'd offered her a drink and she accepted, sipping tentatively.  Billy asked if she new what ruphie was and she said yes, rohypnol the date rape drug.  They laughed.  She was drinking slowly just in case.  Though by now she was sure they meant her no harm.  Just a bunch of guys out having a good time.  When asked she admitted to having had a bottle of wine before her walk, and a shot of vodka and a smoke.  Also why she couldn't sleep.  They thought her drinking wine was 'cute' though Nick thought her like for vodka was cool.

She asked the guy in the white shirt if he was their go to man, since he had on a business shirt and drover a BMW.  They wanted to know if she was a cop.  She laughed and said no, adding that she does drive a car that looks like an undercover cop car, more laughter, still she promised she was not a cop.  Again they asked what she was doing walking around at night.  She said escaping and they asked her what she had to escape from.  To them she appeared to be the type to having nothing to escape.  Everyone has something to escape from, she said, such as having this one job but wishing you had some other job.  Yes!  They could all relate and laughed about how she was just like them.

After some time they offered her a smoke and she said yes.  Using some smoking tool she'd never seen the likes of.  It was good stuff.  Smooth.  She still sipped her drink periodically.  A strong drink she'd never heard of before.  It might have had the number 12 on it.

At some stage she gave her mobile number to Billy, remarking about the randomness of her walk and stumbling across them (what she considered to be like minded people).  Of all the times she used to walk around she'd never seen anyone at the park after dark.  Maybe they might meet up again?

Later a Japanese guy came over to say hi, his name was Steve.  He was gone away with the fairies.  Apparently he'd come over because he was interested in the new girl in black.  Yet he didn't speak a word.  Too shy to even look at her, or too gone.  Some how they all got the Japanese guy to talk then left her alone with him. They talked about the difference between revenge and betrayal.  Her saying betrayal is worse, it's more calculated and methodical.  He was quite intense this Japanese guy, until he seemed to fall asleep standing.  She took this as her cue to go, and leave them all be.  She called out bye and headed of.
On her way back home she paid careful attention to whether she was followed or not.  She wasn't.  They all stayed behind at the pavilion enjoying the rest of their night.  She smiled to herself thinking what good fortune it was to stumble across them and be able to hang with them for a while.  They could have been bad people yet she was lucky, they were nice and friendly.  A fun way to end a restless night.

walk in the park in the dark

The voices were getting louder as she approached in the dark.  She tried to figure exactly where they were coming from.  Was it the park, the oval or the pavilion?  If it was the pavilion that was fine.  They wouldn't see her approach the park in the dark.  Wearing all black approaching quietly she didn't want them knowing she was there.  Not yet anyway, not until she figured out more about them.  Getting closer she confirmed they were at the pavilion and did not see her as she walked over to the park.

Sitting on the swing first then moving to the slide when her head started to feel topsy turvy, she could hear the voices better there.  She was trying to pick the accents, the nationality of the people.  Hoping they weren't some nationality or race that objected to girls walking around at night.  That could spell trouble for her.  They were guys and they were laughing and having a good time.  There was coughing which told her they were smoking.

She was feeling adventurous, reminiscing of her younger years and the times she used to walk around at night.  She did it often then.  Nowadays it was rare for her to walk around at night time.  What had changed?  Life.  The business of it.  The tiredness that came with the business.  And the notion that she shouldn't be walking around at night time by herself.  It hadn't been safe in her younger years either however she'd been more rebellious then.

Getting off the slide she decided to head into the wetland's walkways at the back of the park.  Moving stealthily they did not see her cross the park and disappear into the brush.  The sound of her thongs crunching on gravel seemed loud to her, yet she could hear the guys still laughing and talking, having no idea she was there.  The path she followed would take her around the wetlands and she would pop out near the pavilion.  If she felt brave enough.  In the dark everything was different shades of grey with black patches.  Everything was still visible as though a soft light shone from above yet when she looked up the moon was no where to be seen.  Hiding behind clouds perhaps.

Closer to the pavilion the gravel path ended at a wooden suspension bridge over the lake.  Walking across the bridge meant no brush or trees to hide behind and not a great deal of shadow.  Yet no-one noticed her cross the bridge, quietly, slowly.  Stopping now and again to make sure the tone of conversation hadn't changed, making sure they were still unaware of her presence.  The pavilion was now just meters away to her right.  She crouched down behind some tall grasses by the waters edge and listened to them talking.

Now she could hear they spoke English and they didn't sound of any race that might attack her if they new she was there.  Some cultures were like that, she feared; not liking girls being out alone in the dark.  Trying to pick the accent by what she heard and the race by the shapes of their silhouettes as they moved around the pavilion.  Asian judging by the short prickly hair.  One of them stood on the path just meters away from her.  If he headed towards the water he'd see her and give away her presence.  Up close she could hear they were just larrikining around, talking, laughing, smoking.  A punch of people having a good time. 

At this point she decided she would just get up and walk past them.  To her surprise when she did this, approached, walked through the group of guys, though she spotted one blond girl in a light hoodie, through the pavilion and out onto the oval, they all carried on as if nothing had happened.  They hadn't even noticed the stranger walk right by them.  She chuckled to herself and walked left away from the pavilion and the park.

Spontaneously she decided she'd turn around and walk right back over to them.  It could go a number of ways.  She hoped they were as friendly as they seemed.  Now upon them she hopped right up to a group of them and said hi.

lesbifriends

lesbifriends

Don't know if other chicks feel this way but I have this fear I look like a lesbian.  Not coz I got anything against lesbians but coz I get hit on by them often.  Each time it happens I get paranoid that I look butch or manly or something.

Silly since I have friends who are lesbians and they don't look butch or manly.

Anyway, one time I was at a club and this blond chick in a business suit, with a bob and glasses comes up to me asking me the same old question.  What am I doing in a place like that?  Do I come there often?  And all that jazz.  At the start I'm polight, not interested though.  She's on me asking questions and then she's got one hand against the wall beside me getting all sorts of cozy.  When I go to move away she's got both hands against the wall on either side of me and this shits me.  I tell her she needs to back  off.  She's not having it.  She's still in my face trying to pick me up with her charm.  Failing!  Telling me I'm really pretty and she's going to kiss me.  Not having it, I tell her she needs to back away before I lose my cool.  Try and kiss me and you'll regret it I say.  This chick doesn't care.  All over me no matter what I say.  All over me even though I've got hands on her shoulders pushing her back.  She's trying to move in for the the kiss.  I've got my head turned beginning to get physical, prepared to go ape if I have to.  I can see a bouncer across the way doing diddly shit to help.  Eventually her friends come over, pull her away, apologize telling me she's had too much to drink.  Good on her.  I don't care, just get her the hell away from me.

Go to a bar with a short, chubby friend with short spiked hair.  She looks like a lesbian but is a molested child who gets drunk a lot and then becomes loud and in your face.  Sweet yet damaged. Get to the bar and do the lesbians pick her up?  No.  They're leavin her alone.  I'm the one who gets hit on.  Not by any spunky chicks.  They're smart enough - not desperate enough - to realize I ain't batting for their team.  This unattractive Indian chick (not that I care, just saying) in a purple valuer tracksuit, short hair, all hunched over, keeping her left hand inside her jacket pocket as if she's got something to hide; picks me up.  Begins with the usual pick up lines, name, whereabouts, come here often type stuff.  It's clear from the get go what she wants.  I ain't buying.  Yeah I'm polite and still really clear I'm not interested.  I've got a man, just here with a friend, no I don't want a drink thank you.  All night she keeps asking me if she can buy me a drink.  Gets desperate and insisting towards the middle of the night.  Just makes me more un-trusting of her and her hand in her pocket.  Guess you could call me paranoid, or just cautious.  I was driving and don't drink and drive.  Was never going to take her up on her offer no matter what.  Get my friend to talk to her that doesn't work.  End up having to have words and saying I ain't going to change my mind, I don't want a drink, just here  to dance please leave me alone.  She listens on my 2nd take.

The place I met J.  Young skinny long black hair.  Cutter than a button.  Hyper as.  Walking along just minding my business when this girl, who's like my mirror image, comes up to me and just kisses me.  I'm like wow!  First time ever a chick ever kissed me.  And bloody cute too.  When she's finished, and I just go with the flow, I ask her why?  She points to some cute guy with long dark hair her friend is trying to pick up.  He's had his eye on me and I've been keeping the options with him open.  While she was kissing me her friend moved in on this guy.  It was all a strategy to side track me and give her friend a chance.  Afterwards he beckons me over and asks me if she is my girlfriend, the girl I kissed.  I keep him guessing.  He asks for my number, I give it, and I'm done.  Left thinking about how cute that girl was.  Am I batting for the wrong team.  Not coz she's cute.  Coz this was number 1 in order of how  these stories go.  At the time I was really starting to doubt men were my thing because they were always so asshole and I couldn't tell if I could put up with their shit at this stage.  So she seemed optional.  I knew the next day it wasn't to be.  Still might have been a bit fun??

It wasn't that the others were hideous either.  They were just too full on and didn't leave me with a chance to say yes or no.  Gotta give a girl an out.

train story .. Rapunzel and the knights in shinng armor

Time: around 6:30pm.  Dark outside.  I was 18 or 19 and had long hair down to the base of my back.  Long black hair, shining, healthy, well looked after.  I'm standing by the doorway looking out the window at the people on the train, reflected in the window.  This old codger around 50 or 60 with long grey hair, skinny, wearing black, makes a comment on how lovely my hair is.  That's nice I tell him, thanks.  He asks do you mind if I touch it.  I'm wary yet say yes thinking what's the harm.  He touches my hair lightly, comments, not letting go, and touching it some more.  I thank him again then go to remove my hair from his hands.  He grabs my hair and holds on tight still talking about how lovely it is.  Now I'm pissed off.  I hate people grabbing or pulling my hair.  I tell him to let go of my hair.  He pretends he doesn't hear me.  I say something again, grab my hair and try to pull it away from him.  Preparing to go hammer and tong on the guy if he doesn't let go.  Next thing I know these two handsome teens come up to me and say, "Oh it IS you, how you been?"  I  get their plan and join in, saying Hi great to see you guys.  The old man lets go of my hair and the teen boys move me away from him.  They tell me they could see I was in trouble and the old man wasn't going to let go of my hair without a fight, so they rescued me.  Who says there's no such thing as knights in shinning armor.

fault finder

It was an insidious thing.  One that crept up on a person without them seeing it coming.  In fact it could be upon them for sometime chiseling away at their self-esteem and self worth and they still might notice it there.  Though after a while 'it' would make itself known and the person would finally realise that insecurity and self doubt was niggling at the seams.

This is what had been happening to her over the years she had known him.  The odd comments always stuck out yet they were overshadowed by the sweet romantic things he did, such as the ruby earrings he presented as a gift.  While she remembered the negative comments with her elephant like memory she had never really dwelled on any of it.  Or so she thought.

Years later however cracks were beginning to show.  When she walked into a room full of people there were these loud sounds and words in her head constantly.  Am I good enough?  Am I attractive enough?  Will people like me?  Will I annoy them?  Say the wrong thing?  Pull an ugly face?  Put people off me?  Make them hate me?

She recalled a time before she'd met him when she had actually liked herself, been quite confident to the point of cocky, had admired her many talents and good qualities.  Nowadays she seemed riddled with self doubt and self loathing.  Nothing she did gave her back that feeling of self-worth.  Thinking back in a futile attempt to figure out how and where it had all started there was no date or time she could come up with.

All that appeared were the names he had called her, the statements he had made over the years: you're lazy, you don't dress sexy enough, you sit on your ass all day doing nothing, you wear too much black, I don't find you attractive, you don't do enough around the house, disappointing, embarrassing, annoying, don't meet my expectations, that outfit looked better on the dummy, should you be eating that, you'll never lose weight, next time do a better job, do you honestly think you do a good enough job, you're friends have stopped talking to you because you did or said something wrong, no one wants to be your friend because you're annoying.

So many years.  So many statements, insults, the put-downs and fault finding.  It all lead to her slow demise.  On the one hand she was still aware of her good qualities and attributes and still vaguely aware that others saw these in her.  Still, no matter what she did or said, or what others did or said, he couldn't see her qualities or attributes.  Or if he did see them he found it far more easy (and seemingly beneficial?) to point out her failings.  He would have his little digs and she would either ignore them knowing them to be false or fire up and demand he take back his statement.  Yet even this was taking it's toll on her.  It angered her and made her feel like a failure that she couldn't get him to see her strengths.  Couldn't get him to count his blessings.  Couldn't get him to to stop searching for, finding and pointing out her failings.  She knew he liked and even loved her and yet she couldn't help but wonder... who treats someone they love this way?

The questions now remained: how long could she live like this, how long could she keep up the fight for respect, how much longer until he chiseled away at what ever dignity she had left, how long would she stay with him before realising he was probably always going to find fault with her (he saw it as his job, his role) and that she should turn away now before irreparable damage was done.

train story .. try hard homey dude

A white try hard 'homey' dude and his friend sat near me talking as loud as they could, as if I needed to hear what they were saying.  As if anyone needed to hear what they were saying.  The older of the two, 15, as white as, talking in what he called his 'niger' accent.  Talking about wanting to be black and laying black chicks.  He spoke crudely and crass, he swore and used the 'c' word often.  He was irritating and horrible.  I don't know if he was quoting some black comedian when he began talking about a black girl who wasn't really black.  When she pulled down her knickers to reveal her 'c' she had a white ass and pussy.  Charming!  Real nice.  I guessed he was quoting someone coz I find it hard to believe a try hard wanna be loser like him had ever seen a pussy.  When the two boys got off the train the younger one said, "You're disgusting" to his friend.  I got the feeling he wasn't all that pleased to be in such company.  I spoke out to them, "You're telling me!"