Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday Night Fever
You know I’ve never done this before. I’ve never come home and automatically sat down in front of my trusty keyboard and just belted it out until now..so here goes. A very nice evening took a turn to the street of creepy and almost left every man and woman for themselves. So maybe I shouldn’t have accepted a dance from a guy who looked like John Travolta in a leisure suit, how was I supposed to know he was going to get damn creepy the rest of the evening. But you know, even when you told me you didn’t want to know my name, that you just wanted to dance, that you didn’t want to take me home, I didn’t give a shit. I don’t care, I wouldn’t have given you the appropriate name anyway you loser, nor would I have allowed myself to travel to any distance to be close to where you say you would have resided. All I did was dance with you. And you did not take “No” for an answer the next time around, and the next, and the next. So being the immature adult that you are, you started staking out my friends and coworkers for allies. You were attempting to befriend them for good words, then you insisted that everyone wanted to fight you. Bad move, see you don’t get that I overheard your real name ANGELO and NO I’m not afraid to post it here, because any chick in their right mind better not fall for your stupid lines in a f-ing leisure suit. I saw it from a mile away but I did accept one dance, one dance that you just couldn’t get enough of. It was pathetic that you just wouldn’t go away. And now that I know you’re name, you, the sleezeball that almost ruined my evening because you wouldn’t let it go, you will regret the day we met. I know you, I know what you look like, I know your name. That’s all I need to know. Its been a very long time since I drove home scared, crying my eyes out thinking that if my unsung heroes, my co-workers weren’t there I’d be in a ton of trouble and not even typing this right now. But that’s it, I’m done. I didn’t ask for this, this is not my fault, but welcome to my world. My eyes are swollen from crying the last 30 minutes on the ride home, my heart is pumping a mile a minute because I truly would call a ‘hit’ on this sleezeball had I known someone out of one of the mafia books I’m reading. So I end it here, I know who you are, yes, this is a threat. Don’t you ever come near me again or its your face against my fist. I owe a ton to my co-workers tonight, for if not for them I would have been fearing walking to my car alone. And had my other plans materialized I wouldn’t be saying this at all.