Cold metal on my cold face. Drool on my cold face. Drool on the cold metal. Thank god I don't have a girlfriend to see me like this.
I stood up and decided that tonight wouldn't be spent on a bench. My cardboard must have been compromised. I guess that means no more begging.
All of these damn rich folk around here. This damn city. These damn people. This damn life.
Male pattern baldness mixed with a deep blue suit walked towards me. He was on his phone yelling about amounts of money that I couldn't even dream of having. His voice became higher and more nasally the closer he became.
Sick of this shit
Sick of this shit
Sick of this shit
Sick of this shit
He was now a few feet away.
"Hey"
He continued to blab
"I said hey!"
He glanced at me and his eyebrows kissed under wire glasses.
"Give me a second..."
The phone burrowed its way into his pocket.
"What on earth do you want?"
"I raped your daughter."
"What?"
"I raped your fucking daughter."
His eyebrows shaded his eyes just enough so emotion couldn't be translated.
"What the fuck kid? Listen, I don't know who you're looking for but it ain't me. I don't have a daughter okay? And you better not be raping anybody else's daughter got it?"
He was red. It was mildly humorous.
"Sir, yes Sir!"
I saluted.
His fists clenched and I was smiling.
It wasn't funny but I chuckled anyway.
Giggles turned to laughs and it only increased from there.
I was hysterical.
By the time I got back down he was gone.
I'm over it.
YOU ARE READING
Lighten Up Shithead
General FictionBen is sick. Awfully sick. Out of prison, out of friends, out of luck. He doesn't want to be a functioning member of society, so being a nutjob is his best bet. Finding things when not looking is the ultimate form of success, but Ben isn't a very su...
