(no subject)
Those of you who keep up with my schedule of being online will have probably noticed I've not been around in the afternoons as much.
This is because for the past few days, I've been traveling to Monroe every day to go to Suncoast with the intention of talking to their new employee, a cheerful young lass by the name of Shasta.
She's recently moved here from Oklahoma, and I was hoping to befriend her, possibly even date her, once I had learned some more about her...
But, alas, tonight my hopes came crashing down around me.
I met her last Friday, I believe it was.
Barnes had wanted to go into Suncoast to see if Sarah ( a very pretty girl, I'll admit ) was working.
It's a certain cruel irony that it was I that came face-to-face with this girl that was definately NOT this Sarah, as one could immediately tell from the various piercings and dark very-much-not-Sarah's-blonde-as-sunlight hair.
If you were to ask me why I liked her so much, I honestly couldn't answer. Regardless, though, when she came by me and asked if I needed any help, I was awe-struck by something about her. I was quite literally without words for a good couple seconds there. Thankfully, I did recover, and we held a wonderfully fulfilling conversation amidst the action and drama media aisles that surrounded us.
Of course, she was only working part-time, so I had no idea when I'd see her again, and the fool that I am, I completely forgot to ask her for her number or leave my number with her.
So, the only course of action to ensure I met her again as soon as possible, travel the 40-something miles to Monroe every day since with the hopes that she'd be working that day and I could speak to her...
Finally, four-ish days pass until today is reached.
I walk in, pleased to no end that she's there. Barnes and I speak with the senior employee-type girl, Melissa I believe was her name, working at the registers because Shasta's off vacuuming, as it is nearly closing-time. Shasta finishes and comes to talk to myself and Barnes (as he also has been coming with me in the hopes of seeing Sarah, as he's very much wishing to ask for her phone number as well or somesuch.). After talking for a bit, some gothy-type kid walks in and Shasta goes to talk to him for a bit and he soons walks off. By the nature of our timing, they're closing about now, so Barnes and I make for the door, hoping to catch Shasta in a not-busy state later as she's leaving the store. We wait out in the cold maybe 15 minutes before we're both shaking too much to be able to keep a conversation, so we go to get in the car.
Barnes has already gotten in, when Shasta finally makes it outside, but just as I've gotten up the nerve to go talk to her, she's made her way toward a car, which I had assumed to be hers, but to my painful realization, she's gone for the passenger side door, and in the brightness of the internal lights, I see the little guy I saw her talk to so briefly in the store earlier.
And so, having driven an estimated 350 miles over the course of 4 days, standing there in the freezing wind, extremities numb, lungs burning, and heart broken, I find the artist finished the painting before I even had the idea of trying to include myself therein.
I feel so terribly empty these days. There's this void within me that by some tragic chance simply cannot be filled by any means I can imagine.
This is because for the past few days, I've been traveling to Monroe every day to go to Suncoast with the intention of talking to their new employee, a cheerful young lass by the name of Shasta.
She's recently moved here from Oklahoma, and I was hoping to befriend her, possibly even date her, once I had learned some more about her...
But, alas, tonight my hopes came crashing down around me.
I met her last Friday, I believe it was.
Barnes had wanted to go into Suncoast to see if Sarah ( a very pretty girl, I'll admit ) was working.
It's a certain cruel irony that it was I that came face-to-face with this girl that was definately NOT this Sarah, as one could immediately tell from the various piercings and dark very-much-not-Sarah's-blonde-as-sunlight hair.
If you were to ask me why I liked her so much, I honestly couldn't answer. Regardless, though, when she came by me and asked if I needed any help, I was awe-struck by something about her. I was quite literally without words for a good couple seconds there. Thankfully, I did recover, and we held a wonderfully fulfilling conversation amidst the action and drama media aisles that surrounded us.
Of course, she was only working part-time, so I had no idea when I'd see her again, and the fool that I am, I completely forgot to ask her for her number or leave my number with her.
So, the only course of action to ensure I met her again as soon as possible, travel the 40-something miles to Monroe every day since with the hopes that she'd be working that day and I could speak to her...
Finally, four-ish days pass until today is reached.
I walk in, pleased to no end that she's there. Barnes and I speak with the senior employee-type girl, Melissa I believe was her name, working at the registers because Shasta's off vacuuming, as it is nearly closing-time. Shasta finishes and comes to talk to myself and Barnes (as he also has been coming with me in the hopes of seeing Sarah, as he's very much wishing to ask for her phone number as well or somesuch.). After talking for a bit, some gothy-type kid walks in and Shasta goes to talk to him for a bit and he soons walks off. By the nature of our timing, they're closing about now, so Barnes and I make for the door, hoping to catch Shasta in a not-busy state later as she's leaving the store. We wait out in the cold maybe 15 minutes before we're both shaking too much to be able to keep a conversation, so we go to get in the car.
Barnes has already gotten in, when Shasta finally makes it outside, but just as I've gotten up the nerve to go talk to her, she's made her way toward a car, which I had assumed to be hers, but to my painful realization, she's gone for the passenger side door, and in the brightness of the internal lights, I see the little guy I saw her talk to so briefly in the store earlier.
And so, having driven an estimated 350 miles over the course of 4 days, standing there in the freezing wind, extremities numb, lungs burning, and heart broken, I find the artist finished the painting before I even had the idea of trying to include myself therein.
I feel so terribly empty these days. There's this void within me that by some tragic chance simply cannot be filled by any means I can imagine.