Running into a Brick Wall – 3

(continued)

Soon, another woman drives up and gets out of her car. She waves energetically and says “Hi! Hi there!” She clip-clops towards the man and woman in noteworthy, high heeled shoes, moving her body in ways that have surely been refined and perfected to draw the attention of anyone within eyesight. She speaks again as she draws closer to them. “I’m sorry I took a little while to get here. I have been shopping and they were having a great sale. You know how I love to shop. Fun, fun, fun! The best therapy in the world if you ask me. I haven’t found a problem yet that I couldn’t cure with a credit card and some fabulous retail. They had a sale on…….oh nevermind, it doesn’t really matter.” She silences her words for a second and stops her clip-clopping. Her stance strikes the form of a relaxed, but yet fairly provocative pose. Then, she glances with pursed lips ever so momentarily at the man, before looking at the bruised and battered woman. Her expression changes immediately from sultry to cute-pouty-concerned. Still however, she somehow retains a glow of polished advertising that radiates about her. “Let’s go shopping babydoll. Let’s go have some fun. You me and some sexy ass attire. We can find some clothes and shoes that will make everyone…EVERYONE want us. We will be the talk of the town. Maybe a little shorty short skirt for you…to get all the men salivating and chasing all after you? What do you think?”

Bruised and battered replies “I’m not really up for shopping right now. I was kinda thinking of something more low key. Maybe just some one on one time with some good conversation. I could really use some good friend time.”

“I hear you. That sounds great to me too. It really does….but, why not do it in style and have fun with a few men chasing after us in our new sexy clothes? We can just play with them….it doesn’t have to lead anywhere or to anything serious…..just some hungry looks, some pickup lines that will hopefully be charming, and a free bar tab for both of us all night long. Doesn’t that sound fun. You know it does. Come on! Let’s be the sexy bitches we are and knock ’em dead.” She directs the overwhelming majority of her gaze directly at the brick wall collider as she tries to persuade her, but in between some of her words, she not-so-subtly glances at the man and gently teases a little lock of her hair whenever she happens to do so.

“I don’t feel like shopping and I really don’t want to be eye candy…..or feel like I’m being hunted tonight. I can’t play that game right now and I don’t want to worry about trying to look sexy or hot. I just want to relax and be myself. Could we maybe just…”

“I understand babydoll, I do, but this lady is on a mission today. I have to hit a few more of my favorite stores before it gets too late. I need to find the perfect attire. I am meeting some of my girlfriends tonight at the bar….my thought was that you could join the group……but anyway, it is imperative that I be the sexiest bitch there. I don’t want there to even be the slightest question of it. They all have to know who is the sexiest of all.” And her own mischievous laughter, full of dark intent, becomes an exclamation point for these words. After a moment, she continues smiling like a predator might “I wish you would join me and all of my future victims, but we all gotta do what we gotta do. It looks like you gotta just do nothing…..and I gotta go titillate both the boys and the ladies with my marvelous and minimally flesh covered fashion sense. I hope you feel better. I really do. Now, wish me luck!” She steps closer and gently kisses the bruised and battered woman on the cheek of the unswollen side of her face. The kiss looks more choreographed than heartfelt in its posture and delivery. “Kisses!” She slowly turns away from the woman, and as she does, she also deliberately catches the eyes of the man once more and twerks her ass ever, ever so slightly. She tries to tease him with her eyes, saying it could be fun for you…..you are just like all men…you know you want to play in my secret garden, but the only reflection found within his eyes is of disinterest, perplexion, and disappointment. Clip-cloppity looks terrified for a millisecond, but then her made-up face snaps back to condescending-runway-model-mode. “She smiles again, this time at both of them. “Have fun doing nothing! Enjoy! I’m off to conquer the world. You know how they love me” and her gait of an advertisement slumbers to her car. She climbs in, closes the door, and drives away.

The man feels like running into the brick wall himself and he isn’t really sure why. It might be to give himself brain trauma or it might be to try and take the pain of insanity and madness away from the woman he has been standing alongside. Can he somehow take it, so she doesn’t have to? It all seems too much to bear for her, maybe for anyone. But he tries to stay strong……..for her. He tries to hold on to himself, so he can hold on for her. The man has sincere feelings for her and he would really like for both of them to just sit down alone and talk…….maybe even just hold one another, but unfortunately, he makes another mistake. “Did she even realize that you were hurt? High heel lady? She didn’t even ask you if you were okay?”

Bruised and battered returns to the attack. “Are you stupid? Of course she knew I was hurt. Of course she did. She was just trying to distract me from my pain and worries. She just didn’t want me to dwell on it. She wanted me to be HAPPY! HAPPY! Something you don’t seem to care about…..”

“How can you say that? How?” The man’s head has fallen. The direction of the fall is unclear, but it has definitely fallen. “I am just trying to hel….”

Almost yelling, bruised and battered counters “I don’t NEED your help! STOP trying to help me. STOP trying to control me. You don’t know me like my friends do. They understand me and YOU don’t.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I should not have said anything about your friend. I’m just worried about you. I’m not trying to control you.” His tone is sincere. A underlying plea is evident in the cadence and rhythm of his words. 

“Words don’t mean anything. They don’t. Just be quiet, please. Just be quiet and sit next to me for a few more minutes. I’m sure one of my other friends will stop by in a minute to pick me up and then you can go criticise someone else.”

•       

To be continued…

Cribb          2015

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