He sits on the bar stool staring blankly into space. At the bar in front of him sits a dirty glass half finished pint of bitter. His eyes are dark and show no emotion. They seem cold, like that blast of cold that hits you when you step out of your house in January to start your car. If you stare into them they’ll take your breath away and you’ll be forced to look into another direction. He sends piercing gazes to the others in the bar in a vain effort to figure out how they do it. He wonders how they communicate with people that they’ve never met. The only one he knows is the bartender that replaces his pint and he doesnt know her either.
No one notices him sitting in a worn t-shirt with a logo for something he finds intersting printed squarely on the front and a old pair of jeans that are tearing apart at the seams. The others are wearing button up shirts and nice leather shoes. He wears the steel toed boots that take him to work every day. Maybe, he thinks, if he should get into it, the loud thud of the steel into the other guy will scare any other takers away. These people are too rich for him. The girls that come here are too shallow and too nice for him at the same time. He wants someone that can break his will, barring that, he’ll take someone that will be on equal ground.
He met someone the other night at a bar and talked for two hours. He doesn’t think she’ll remember the conversation in the morning; he doesn’t consider himself worthy of being in another persons thoughts. When people speak to him they had better have a clear self image of who they really are and who they want to be. If they don’t, he’ll tear them apart like a lion does to a gazelle ripping flesh from bone. He is, in no way shape or form physically attracted to her but the fact that she can carry a conversation without pissing him off immediately is amazing. She carries on many of the normal topics and assumes alot, She assumes correctly on many of the points. She guesses what his job is, where he is from, and roughly how old he is. He doesn’t guess because he knows about her. She is in her lower 30’s, married, and works in a job around children. Her mind moves in an analytical fashion; she must spend most of her time in math or science. It turns out she is a teacher… he was right yet again. She doesn’t challenge him mentally and he toys with her for the next two hours. For some reason, as he sits sober in the chair, he wants to make her question everything in life. Life is not as clear as many people think it is. She begins to doubt herself and the remarks she is making; she is not as strong as she thought she was.
The proverbial soft spot in the armor is shown to him and he opens up the wound. She is not safe anymore, she has let too much of herself out there in the open. She has a general naiveté that she is beginning to exude. She doesnt know even though she’s been around longer. She tries but is shut down. He won’t let anyone in.
She leaves and he wonders why there are so few that can challenge him. Maybe he sets the standards too high. He sets his own standards so high that he always fails himself. Constantly pushing, he never gives up but is always met with constant disappointment. The disappointment leads to a general contempt and hate for everything around him. They should know him but they can’t because he will not let them. If the did know, they wouldn’t be able to handle what came up.
Tags: boots, car, cold, dirt, hate, media, science, work
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