Wednesday, January 04, 2006
I consider myself lucky that the next couple who come back to their car don't appear to see me. Perhaps they were just being nice, but either way, it is a relief.
I begin drinking my cocoa, studying the top of the cup between sips. If I don't see them staring at me, I won't be embarrassed, right? That actually works for a few minutes until I hear a knock on the window.
I look up, and I see a man standing there, talking to me. He gestures that I should roll down the window, and I shout that I can't - I don't have the key. He starts talking more loudly (and I really wish he wasn't attracting attention that way) and suggests that I open the door if I can't open the window to talk with him.
"I don't talk to strangers." "But you'll sit there like that?" "HE isn't a stranger."
The man continues to try to convince me to get out of the truck, and says things designed to make me keep talking with him, and hopefully to get me out of the truck, I think.
Finally, I think he's had enough, as he says, "I thought you didn't talk to strangers." To which I replied, "I've been trying to get you to go away. You don't seem to know how to listen."
Then I see a familiar coat approaching him from behind. You walk up and ask if he's having fun shouting at your slut and keeping her from finishing her cocoa, as she was told to do.
"She wouldn't open the window to talk to me." "She can't open the window. I have the keys."
"But she wouldn't open the door either. Said something about you locking it and telling her to stay there. Surely she is able to decide if she wants to talk with someone or not."
"When I tell my slut that I am locking the doors and I want her to stay put, I mean I want her to stay put and the doors to stay locked. I take the keys so she isn't put in a position where she feels compelled to open the window because someone sees that they are available. The only reason for me to come out here and find the door open or to find her outside the truck at all, is if she feels she is in some sort of danger, in which case, of course, she needs to protect herself."
I begin drinking my cocoa, studying the top of the cup between sips. If I don't see them staring at me, I won't be embarrassed, right? That actually works for a few minutes until I hear a knock on the window.
I look up, and I see a man standing there, talking to me. He gestures that I should roll down the window, and I shout that I can't - I don't have the key. He starts talking more loudly (and I really wish he wasn't attracting attention that way) and suggests that I open the door if I can't open the window to talk with him.
"I don't talk to strangers." "But you'll sit there like that?" "HE isn't a stranger."
The man continues to try to convince me to get out of the truck, and says things designed to make me keep talking with him, and hopefully to get me out of the truck, I think.
Finally, I think he's had enough, as he says, "I thought you didn't talk to strangers." To which I replied, "I've been trying to get you to go away. You don't seem to know how to listen."
Then I see a familiar coat approaching him from behind. You walk up and ask if he's having fun shouting at your slut and keeping her from finishing her cocoa, as she was told to do.
"She wouldn't open the window to talk to me." "She can't open the window. I have the keys."
"But she wouldn't open the door either. Said something about you locking it and telling her to stay there. Surely she is able to decide if she wants to talk with someone or not."
"When I tell my slut that I am locking the doors and I want her to stay put, I mean I want her to stay put and the doors to stay locked. I take the keys so she isn't put in a position where she feels compelled to open the window because someone sees that they are available. The only reason for me to come out here and find the door open or to find her outside the truck at all, is if she feels she is in some sort of danger, in which case, of course, she needs to protect herself."
