RL Slime

It started off like any other day. 6am jog (I know; I'm amazing), two breakfasts, write up lecture notes. Then my new manager called and asked me to come in an hour early to work. Fine, whatever. I want the money. Particularly because I just bought a $14.95 cardigan which has one sleeve significantly shorter than the other. I have no words to describe my dismay. I must return this monstrosity.

Back to my day. Fine, whatever. I want the money (just bringing you up to speed). I went in at 11am. Technically, I didn't sign in until 11.02am. This pains me greatly because I have never been late to work. In fact, I'm nearly always at least 10 minutes early. But I had to wait for my dad to get home to give me a lift there because my mum's car (which I usually use) was in an accident the other day.

In the CBD, while my brother was driving home, a Transperth bus rammed it from behind at a corner. I don't know how it happened (was not present). One of the back tires basically popped and apparently the suspension is all awry. There is also an unsightly dent in the back. Too add to it, when we called our insurance company to lodge a claim, they said Transperth would never admit liability and hence we would have to pay the $1000 excess. Even though it was clearly not our fault. I just have no words. I'm pretty pissed about this because, whilst riding the bus, I constantly see events where the buses are very close to a collision. I understand that buses are big, unwieldy vehicles with less control and take longer to brake but bus drivers also speed a lot and can be reckless. We will see where this road less travelled takes us.

Back to my day.

I got to work, signed in and was just minding my own business. Checking out like a mad dawg. Chatting with my friend. Gossiping about our new manager (apparently, he's a dick but he's nice to me). And then R comes up to the checkout.

Let me situate you.

INT. OFFICEWORKS. DAYTIME:

R: Hey! Did you see my message on your birthday card?

J: No, I haven't opened it yet! Why? What does it say?

R: No, read it later. I won't spoil the surprise. When was your birthday?

I mistakenly think he has wished me happy birthday.

J: Thanks!

There is a moment of awkward silence.

J: I mean... on Thursday.

R: Oh right. Oh, by the way... I have to tell you that I just failed at picking up with totally hot chick who just picked up her photos. There were like hundreds of her in a bikini and shit. Oh, my god. She was so hot. So I said that to get her photos she had go out with me. She laughed and said she had a boyfriend.

J: Oh, my God! Are you serious? Har har har.

R: I know! I have something to show you later (it's my dick in a box).

And then he walked off.

I have a few things to admit. Firstly, when he mentioned his birthday message, this weird and optimistic part of me thought it would read something like, "Hey, I really like you and think it's about time something happened. Here's my number: 0000 000 000. So, call me maybe! R." Instead, I opened my card at lunch (stupidly hopeful) and read this:

It was not what I hoped for but it was still cute. Especially because he was so excited for me to read it. He even asked me later if I'd read it and we laughed about it then I demanded $10. He did not give me $10. But later, he offered to shout me a Muzzbuzz as he was going to get himself one. I declined.

That's another thing about R. He never eats himself but if he ever goes out to get something, he offers to shout everyone. Everyone. Ugh, generosity is sexy. His stupid slouch is sexy. His sexy wannabe-hipster glasses are sexy (he is so far from hipster but he wears hipster glasses). His stupid fucking acne prone skin is sexy (IT'S SEXY BECAUSE IT'S LIKE WE CAN RELATE AND SHIT). THAT FUCKING SMILE. I CREAM MYSELF EVERY TIME.

Later, as we were closing up, R suddenly runs off as he's moving around some pallets. His buddy, K, says to me, "R never just runs off like that. Trust me, he's got something to show you. Seriously, prepare yourself." He said this to me like five times and I kept thinking, "PLEASE BE HIS DICK IN A BOX."

It was not.

There were some real dickish customers today and I didn't finish closing up until 5.20pm. Dear customers, please don't be assholes and come in at 5pm. Just don't do it. Just don't fucking do it. I hope you slip on a banana peel and fall in a pile of cow shit. You know what, mate? I don't get paid past 5pm so just don't do it. I will cut you.

As I was saying, R eventually runs back with this stupid smile on his face. This adorable, amazing, toothy grin. And he's holding an envelope of photos.

"Holy fucking shit," I say. "You didn't."
"HE DID!" says K.
"Oh, my God. DID YOU MAKE COPIES?" I practically scream. I'm disguising it with laughter and a shocked smile but inside, my heart is becoming a necrotic mess.
"Yes!" he says.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT!" I say and bury my face in my hand.
"HOW CAN I CALL MYSELF A MAN IF I DON'T?"
"I don't even want to know what you're going to do with those," I said.
"I'm pretty sure that's illegal," says one of the other guys, M.

I walk off at this point. R yells bye to me. I respond then quickly turn my head to hide my tears. As I help print & copy cash up, I wonder to myself what this all means. I wonder why this keeps happening to me. I tend to like guys and I think that hell, there's a chance they like me back. Mostly because I serially choose fairly homely guys to like these days. It's a reflection on my self-esteem, to be honest. I feel (no, I know) I have no chance with a lot of guys. I try to choose guys I think I have a chance with to crush on. They're basically not even crushes anymore. They're sad little hopes.

So, why does this keep happening? I like a guy, I fall hard for him, sometimes my days and weeks revolve around him. He's a nice guy, decent looking, ticks my boxes. Then he doesn't like me. He doesn't even think about me. He doesn't even give me a second glance (or only if I've stepped in dog shit and am tracking it around the ground).

WHY DO I KEEP GETTING FRIENDZONED? Is my scent wrong? Do guys think I'm a lesbian? Am I not pretty enough? Is my heart too broken? I don't understand. And I'm so tired. I'm so tired of existing and pining and getting nothing in return. It's sincerely tiring.

So, that was today. As you can tell, I have many feelings about this day. Mixed feelings. Deep sadness and also have engaged in a lot of true laughter.

Things this day has taught me:

1. Well, at least he's straight.

2. At least he's single.

3. He's still got an adorable smile.

4. He's still generous.

5. He's nice to me.

6. He really likes bikini-clad women.

7. He's not afraid to ask girls out. Even hot ones.

8. This probably means that if he did like me, he would have asked me out by now. It probably also means I'm not his type because I've never worn a bikini in my entire life.

9. FUCK MY LIFE.

I won't be seeing him for the next few weeks as he is not on at the same time as me. It's probably good. I think I need a break from that mess.

J