so it was an interesting date. ill mark it for whatever reason, assuming its worth something more than a date of self incrimination. that sounds bad. maybe its just a poor choice in judgment. maybe, i shouldn't be as weird-ed out by myself as i am. maybe ill just tell the story.

i stop off at some indiscriminate mega size grocery store on the way home from work the other night. the purpose was to pick up something to eat for lunch for the upcoming weekend of lock-down at work. as i'm wandering around aimlessly, looking for food that looks good. [also rare, that i dont have a list or any intentions...]. so i round a corner and come face to ass with some young woman, who is about my age, probably younger a bit, in black spandex. and it fits well. really, well. shes oogling the cocoa mixes, as i oogle her. which is depressing. because ive lost interest in the canned goods i came into the aisle for. so i stay as inconspicuous as my "hefty" frame could be, in my world war 2 jacket and blue hat, inching closer and watching. classic. however. she didn't seem to notice. she grabs a box, drops it into the basket next to something else, and looks over at me for the first time. shes a college girl. i dont need to ID her. fake tan. fake hair color. hours of make-up, paired with spandex and a hoodie, 300 dollar purse; they all ring the bells of a 4 alarm college girl. but i lock eyes with her. dark brown eyes. light brown, pencil enhanced eye brows. some brown freckles. it all looked pretty good. she made some cross eyed glance, looked down, and brushed past me. and i felt stupid. i felt clueless. i felt ugly. i felt like i was slapped. and normally, i let it go. it angers me. but i let it go. instead. i see my feet moving. and im following her about 20 feet behind. i know its not a good idea. but i go anyway. my feet never seemed to hear my thoughts. i catch up to her in line. and of course, stand right next to her. i do my best to act disinterested. it works. she looks at me, with some sort of questioning face, looks away but doesnt turn her head. im counting my basket, pretending not to notice. its building. she finally looks up at the cashier as they beging doing the basket dispersal routine. and i look at the goods again. she stops me. "do i know you or something?" shit. but i hear myself say. "no. but having dinner with me would be a good way to get introduced." i look at her. she blushes. but doesn't smile. she bites her lip. "yeah... i really dont think so." this isn't good. but its more spite. it was like being spit at. and i just inflate and grow larger it seems... "well thats good, since you bought your own dinner, we could skip that part. ---then there is a pause--- it could get uncomfortable in a hurry" she is flatlined. i can tell she has no idea what to say to me now. im about as stunned at what ive said. she sucks in both lips, sticks her head forward and makes a nervous laugh. she looks at me. and tells me her name is michelle. i know thats a lie. i smile. and stay polite. shes done now, and hands over some cash. she takes her change, and looks at me, before shes poised to run, and says "its nice meeting you." as she turns away, i listen to my last words that hang in the air... "it was nice to see you too."

i knew a few things as it was happening. i knew i wasn't going to get anywhere with this poor girl. i know just how awful it looked to be hitting on her in line at the grocery store, if i we're a bystander id be embarassed to be near it. worst of all, i repulsed myself as it was happening, but it was almost like i was watching myself; instead of being in control. to me that was hard. because i had all those guilty thoughts about what i was doing, and but just couldn't hit the brakes... because on some level i enjoyed it. no. not her shutting me down. but i enjoyed the elevation of the chase. which, was exactly how i thought of it at the time. my immediate thoughts leapt to serial killers. yes. its a progression. and somehow i consciously made that connection as it happened. and it scared me a little bit. serial killers, generally, progress from lower forms of sadism to higher forms. initially they act out in innocuous ways, but develop to what we all know. they start with simple acts against people - defensive, or responsive; then move on to animals or small children, then to anonymous sources, then to targeted sources. it intensifies at every step; and its the push to the next layer or threshold that raises the endorphines. i don't plan on killing anyone. but i could definitively feel some degree of excitement about the degree of intensity with which i went about it. which, after the fact, made me feel ridiculous. she was pretty. probably too much so for me. thats the truth. she was not interested. thats the truth. but somehow, they way she put me off, drew me out. thats also the truth.

in all my life, maybe 4 women have ever decided i was worth a chance. thats how i feel about it after all these years. as taking a chance. which is ridiculous. but its probably got a lot of truth to it. of those every single one finds it necessary to trounce me in the end. so i acted out this time. some simple, run of the mill chance encounter, and it sets me off in a direction that wasn't criminal, wasn't rude, but wasn't totally appropriate either. im desparate. im lonely. or im angry about both. it was a very odd feeling that night. im definetly in a rut.