I Have This Ring
2003-01-03 - 1:23 p.m.
before/after
strangely
non-functional guestbook
I have this ring in my coat pocket. I want to give it to a quality girl for no reason at all. Its been there for weeks. It doesn't sit on my mind, or oppress me in any way, other than a reminder that I still have it every time I put my hands in my pocket, and have yet to find a quality girl of semi-receptive value. I picked it up when I was in my weeks of solitude at the 'rents second home. It was at the counter of the diner I go to in the small vacation village. I had gone there a couple of times, specifically because there was this blonde girl who interested me. Perhaps out of boredom, I don't know. She gave me looks that said she'd blow me out of sympathy, I guess. Or so I believe, anyway. She was a little shy, and the night prior I got desperate for conversation. A weird guy in a parka sat a few stools down at the counter, and she was behind it. Natural blonde, decent figure, probably would grow up to be a little heavy, but young and succulent right now. Anyway, the guy was rapping a blue streak about bullshit, and either bought or sold some electronic device to the cook who was in back. There was only five people in the diner, and I wanted to talk. I wanted to talk to her, but she seemed a little skittish. So I dived in to the conversation at hand. It was meandering and long. He wore a greasy navy blue parka with oily hair and a sallow complextion. And he never looked anyone in the eye, mumbling something about building computers and selling them on E*AY and ,"never recovering from the surgury." I mugged and made a sly face at the girl and she giggled. The next day, I stopped on my way home to get a quick bite to eat. I had thought of her much during the week, including how I really wanted to penetrate her orally, so I was hopeful she would be there, so maybe I could set something up for next week. She was not working, but stopped in to get her paycheck. Her family runs the diner, and her father gave her a check and a phone number, as she was on the way to someplace else that I never found out. I looked at her and she at me as she left. I smiled what I belive to be a suave smile and waved. She looked at me dazedly with a hazy glaze smile, flipped her hair, giggled, and stumbled a bit as she walked out the door. Then I went to the cashier counter, paid my bill, and saw that they had a basket full of trinkets for the kids. I saw a little copper colored ring with a green "stone" in a bubble of plastic. I grabbed it. "Can I have this?" I asked. "Sure." said the waitress. And it has sat in my pocket ever since.
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