At the pump, I was admiring myself in the reflection of the piece of plastic that shows you just how much you're paying for a gallon of gas. i have the beginnings of a nice chest, and the bottom half of my face looks a little chiseled at just the right angle.

ten dollars on number six, please.

i swear, out of all the cars to pull up... and i didn't even see him. he must have snuck up behind me, but as usual, i was spaced out, trying to make myself feel better by telling myself i was looking good for being such a train wreck. i heard him call my name, and i completely cringed. i think my heatbeat jumped up to at least 180. when did he become such a stranger? i used to run my tounge all over that body, i knew every inch of it.

my words were futile, and he seemed more determined than ever. i didn't run. i just stood there, quite nervous, really. he grabbed me and pushed me in the passenger side door of his gold mercedes.. or is it called champage? i can't remember. cussing, yelling, all that jazz. what the fuck did he want from me? a punch to the face and his hands pulling down my pants gave me all the clues i really needed. no. no. please. no. not. like. this. oh. darn.

i really should start to wear underwear. it may not stop me from being attacked, but at least it buys me time. (you know, in case there's a next time. see? i'm always usin' my noggin')

he drove me around the block and dumped me out right there on the fucking street. i bet he just drove right on home to his beautiful house and actually thought he was doing the right thing to boost my ego. see? i told you i still wanted you. that's EXACTLY something he would say. ugh. vomit.

as if i wanted it. but i kinda did.

i ran back to the gas station, and really, all i could think about was whether or not someone was stealing gas from me as they filled up their car on my tab. i completely forgot i hadn't put it on my credit card, which has been maxed out for a while now, by the way.


i'm so poor, and even more so, dirty. no wonder i get dumped.