So I was working an early shift today. 8 - 4. I have to be out of bed by 6 for me to stand any chance of actually making it into work on time. My brother recently broke his phone so took the one I use for my alarms for his own personal use. I woke up today at 7.15. I literally got out of bed, got dressed, and walked into Raheny village to get a taxi to work. It cost me €2o. I was feeling really shitty all morning. I didn't have time to shower or shave or even brush my teeth and I felt fucking filthy. I'm pretty sure I looked it, too. There was nobody doing a mid shift to cover us for breaks, so I only got my lunch at 1.30pm when the people on close came in. It was the best break ever. I got the last meat free panini and I made myself a savage Raspberry and Blackcurrant frap with passion iced tea instead of zen. Ask for it next time, it's class. Actually, it probably won't be, because 99.999999% of starbucks employees are TERRIBLE at making fraps. So much so that I've actually had someone add me and message me on a site called myspace.com (I'm not sure if you've heard of it or not), and tell me that I'm savage at making fraps. Actually, hang on and I'mm quote it.
you make a killer caramel frap.So there we have it. Fuck everyone else.
good job!!
Anyway, I strayed off. This entry was meant to be about what happened after work. I know it kind of fucks with standard protocol or whatever, but I'll do what I want. So after 4 o'clock rolled around, I went for my bus. Usually I get a 102 bus sometimes I'll go a bit mad and just decide to get whichever one comes first. So today I got a 43 with the intention of getting off in Fairview and waiting for either a 31/B, 32/A/B, or a 29A to Raheny. Grand. And it was. I was listening to Nerdlinger (who are the best to ever come out of Ireland ever since the James Joyces'), and was havin' a bash through a book I'm reading called Shantaram. I'm sitting down the back of the bus on the lower saloon (It rules because you can rest your feet on the seat infront of you just like on the Dart). Literally 2 stops later this girl gets on. She's fairly good looking, blonde, and has a pink school bag with her. Don't fucking judge me. Loads of people carry schoolbags. I do. Anyway, a minute or two later I look up to snatch a glance and I see this shine on her face and I'm like "Woah, this girl's got really good skin, and here I am perving on her like some horrible junkie with greasy hair, an unshaved face that's not really stubble but more like a facial knackertash, unbrushed teeth, and bloodshot eyes from a lack of sleep followed by working an eight hour shift. I must have been a right fucking mess. I looked away because I knew that if she caught me looking at her, there'd be no chance of getting away with just giving her the nod. I peeked again. On closer inspection, it was a fucking tear. She didn't have amazingly radiant skin, she was just crying.
But it was really weird crying. It was like tears of ultimate defeat or something. Like something had grinded her down that she didn't even show any real emotions. They were just tears running down her face, and she wasn't responding to them just as much as she wasn't fighting them away. It was like she'd been fucked by whatever it was that was upsetting her enough, that she just couldn't feel anything more. It was really shit having to watch it. It was like each tear that ran down her face symbolised a victory to whatever was making her like this, and it was also like she knew it. She knew it and she just didn't have anything left in her to care about it anymore. It was fucked. Every now and again she'd wipe the tears off her face with the sleeve of her jumper, but it was just because they were becoming physically uncomfortable, not that she didn't want anyone to see. She didn't seem like she is in any state to care what anyone else thought. And then my mind went into a logical overdrive of sorts, where I was trying to find reason in all of this. I didn't know this girl, so how the fuck could I possibly guess what had made her like this? But I was trying to think of something anyway. Nothing I could think of matched up. Bullying, a break up, death, bad stuff at home, etc. There's all certain emotions attached to those that can be read fairly easily once you've either experienced them or have seen someone experiencing them. She just seemed really empty and it sucked to see. She took a key out of her pocket and looked at it, and then put it back in. I wasn't sure if she was looking at the key because it might be that she was going somewhere to make her feel better, or if she was looking at it because she didn't want to be behind the door the key unlocked. Who knows. Who cares? Should I have? Probably not, it was just some girl crying. But I'd never seen anyone cry like that and it fucking made some sort of impact on me. I want to know everything about this person, and I want to know if she's alright about whatever, and I want to know what she was feeling. And normally I wouldn't care about this at all because I'm a self involved prick who just looks out for number one, but it was something I didn't understand. And I need to understand everything, because I'm self involved. I need to know everything. I need to know why she was clutching that pink bag so tight before she got off.
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