pew pew
A Perplexing Preface
Text Message from (385)-232-4872: “hey…how are you? i miss you”
The bar grew eerily silent as glass shards danced across the floor. Patrons expectantly stared towards a table set off to the side of the musky, smoke-filled room, awaiting justification for the obnoxious interruption. There Tyler sat in red-faced embarrassment, grimacing while holding his painfully annoying fist, angered by the absolute loss of control.
“Now why the fuck would you hit the table” he asked quietly to himself, in spite of the undivided attention cast his way. Tyler hated himself too much at that moment to care about anybody but her.
“Is everything OK, sir?”
“Here?” he asked as he pointed exaggeratingly at the table in front of him. “Yes. Here?” he asked again, this time pointing to his head. “Not in the least.”
For one second there was a pause between Tyler and the tall brunette hostess who stood facing him. That one second was all Tyler needed; he knew this girl in deeper ways than most of the friends she’s ever had.
“Stop being afraid. Guys in shitty bars like this feed on fear; it makes them feel stronger about their terribly broken confidence and depleted self-esteem. When you come over to my table, which I just smashed full-force with my bare hand for seemingly no reason, the high-pitched ‘sir’ you barely squeaked shows more signs of fear than crying right here and now. The men here will do nothing but manipulate that fear and use it against you for their sheer amusement. I know how pissed off you can become, I’m watching those memories of you right now. You need to take that focus and assert it to situations you’re afraid of; become the powerful, dominant you. You’ll notice attention and respect coming your way, fueling the focus until it becomes natural. Only then will you be able to walk over to a table, look a psychotic man in the eye, and tell him that he needs to leave immediately using the exact same line ‘is everything ok, sir.’ For now, however, I’m going to use your fear to make you offer me a new drink, which I don’t even want.”
The second was done.
“I’m so sorry about the mess, it just kinda slipped. I’ll help you clean it up” Tyler said quickly, with a sympathetically apologetic look stapled to his face.
“No, no, it’s OK, we’ll clean it for you”
Tyler quickly interrupted with a sigh. “Please, really, I hate being a burden and I know how much work you guys already have lined up for you. Can you bring me a dustpan and a broom?”
“Really, it’s ok, we aren’t allowed to let customers clean up broken glass. We’ll take care of it for you.” The hostess paused for a second, and a small genuine smile peaked through her lips. Tyler smiled back, but kept his eyes in a sorrowful place.
“Well maybe I can clean off the floor with some napkins when you’re not looking.”
The hostess let out a light airy laugh as she turned away to the kitchen. Tyler sat bemused as he went over his read again and again, looking for new patterns that lead to new secrets about this girl who had no idea who he was. After a few seconds had passed he grabbed a few napkins and leaned over to the floor to pick up a couple of ice cubes, posing as though he were cleaning. As the hostess turned the corner Tyler looked up in shock as though he were caught, dropped the napkins and ice on his lap, and coyly sat straight in the chair looking amusingly over suspicious. As the hostess let out a bright smile and a chuckle, Tyler thought to himself; “I love these games.”
“Hey, what did I say about cleaning the floor” joked the hostess who had a whole new air of confidence around her. She turned to face sideways of Tyler as she started sweeping the tiny glass shards into a small pile. He knew what she meant by turning sideways; she was open to conversation but she didn’t have the confidence to start one.
“Thank you so much, I really do appreciate you putting up with me.” Tyler turned in his seat to face the hostess, who then turned (as he had expected) to face him while she continued sweeping the floor.
“It’s only sweeping, not that big of a deal. It’s not like the mug was full, in which case I would have to mop. If you made me mop I’d be totally pissed off at you.” Her eyes smiled brighter than her mouth did, blissfully unaware of Tyler’s thoughts.
“Well it was empty when it hit the floor, but wasn’t all that empty when it tipped over on my pants.” Tyler grabbed the now ice-soaked napkins from his lap and set them on the table, then grabbed a few more napkins and set them on top of his quite-dry pants. The hostess stood, apologetically laughing at the amusing sarcasm.
“Maybe next time you’ll think better than to pour your drink all over yourself and slam the mug into the floor” she retorted playfully. Tyler paused for a second, planning out his next few moves. This had already taken longer than he wanted to spend in the crappy bar he wanted no part of, but he wasn’t about to give up.
“If I could think hard enough to stop myself from being an asshole, trust me I would.” This was the most untrue part of the entire exchange. Tyler changed his mixed expression of inner-sorrow with outer-happiness to one of inner-regret and an outer expression that read of feigned amusement. The convincing switch worked, grabbing the attention of the hostess and causing the exact mental reaction he was hoping for.
“Trust me, you’re not an asshole” said the hostess in a smooth tone of honesty. “In fact you’re probably the nicest guy in here right now.” Her smile was very soft and warm as she looked straight into Tyler’s eyes. He switched his expression once again to inner comfort and outer happiness and met her stare. He flashed a look of intrigue across his eyes to catch her attention again.
“Do you want me to get you another drink?”
Game over.
Tyler’s fake expressions clamored with confusion to the ground as he shed his dishonesty. He was back to his cold, unexpressive face and a straightforward inner expression that read of unimportant carelessness.
“No, actually, I need to be getting out of here.” He grabbed his coat and threw it over his shoulders while sliding out of his chair.
“Are you sure? It’s free.” But the confused, once again high-pitched hostess knew she was fighting a losing battle as Tyler was no longer facing her, but had his shoulders turned slightly away to face the table. Tyler, however, didn’t want to draw any more attention to him with her trying to get him to stay. In an instant he turned on his façade of care and respect once again.
“I’m sorry, I really do have to go. But,” he started as he touched her hand with his, “Thank you so much for understanding and going through the hassle to clean up after me.”
Flustered and dazed she slowly responded. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.”
“I come in here on occasion so I’ll probably see you around sometime. Thanks again!” Tyler’s smile hardened to a concrete stare the second it was out of view of the hostess. He knew he would never see her again and couldn’t be more indifferent.
Text Message from (385)-232-4872: “hey…how are you? i miss you”
The bar grew eerily silent as glass shards danced across the floor. Patrons expectantly stared towards a table set off to the side of the musky, smoke-filled room, awaiting justification for the obnoxious interruption. There Tyler sat in red-faced embarrassment, grimacing while holding his painfully annoying fist, angered by the absolute loss of control.
“Now why the fuck would you hit the table” he asked quietly to himself, in spite of the undivided attention cast his way. Tyler hated himself too much at that moment to care about anybody but her.
“Is everything OK, sir?”
“Here?” he asked as he pointed exaggeratingly at the table in front of him. “Yes. Here?” he asked again, this time pointing to his head. “Not in the least.”
For one second there was a pause between Tyler and the tall brunette hostess who stood facing him. That one second was all Tyler needed; he knew this girl in deeper ways than most of the friends she’s ever had.
“Stop being afraid. Guys in shitty bars like this feed on fear; it makes them feel stronger about their terribly broken confidence and depleted self-esteem. When you come over to my table, which I just smashed full-force with my bare hand for seemingly no reason, the high-pitched ‘sir’ you barely squeaked shows more signs of fear than crying right here and now. The men here will do nothing but manipulate that fear and use it against you for their sheer amusement. I know how pissed off you can become, I’m watching those memories of you right now. You need to take that focus and assert it to situations you’re afraid of; become the powerful, dominant you. You’ll notice attention and respect coming your way, fueling the focus until it becomes natural. Only then will you be able to walk over to a table, look a psychotic man in the eye, and tell him that he needs to leave immediately using the exact same line ‘is everything ok, sir.’ For now, however, I’m going to use your fear to make you offer me a new drink, which I don’t even want.”
The second was done.
“I’m so sorry about the mess, it just kinda slipped. I’ll help you clean it up” Tyler said quickly, with a sympathetically apologetic look stapled to his face.
“No, no, it’s OK, we’ll clean it for you”
Tyler quickly interrupted with a sigh. “Please, really, I hate being a burden and I know how much work you guys already have lined up for you. Can you bring me a dustpan and a broom?”
“Really, it’s ok, we aren’t allowed to let customers clean up broken glass. We’ll take care of it for you.” The hostess paused for a second, and a small genuine smile peaked through her lips. Tyler smiled back, but kept his eyes in a sorrowful place.
“Well maybe I can clean off the floor with some napkins when you’re not looking.”
The hostess let out a light airy laugh as she turned away to the kitchen. Tyler sat bemused as he went over his read again and again, looking for new patterns that lead to new secrets about this girl who had no idea who he was. After a few seconds had passed he grabbed a few napkins and leaned over to the floor to pick up a couple of ice cubes, posing as though he were cleaning. As the hostess turned the corner Tyler looked up in shock as though he were caught, dropped the napkins and ice on his lap, and coyly sat straight in the chair looking amusingly over suspicious. As the hostess let out a bright smile and a chuckle, Tyler thought to himself; “I love these games.”
“Hey, what did I say about cleaning the floor” joked the hostess who had a whole new air of confidence around her. She turned to face sideways of Tyler as she started sweeping the tiny glass shards into a small pile. He knew what she meant by turning sideways; she was open to conversation but she didn’t have the confidence to start one.
“Thank you so much, I really do appreciate you putting up with me.” Tyler turned in his seat to face the hostess, who then turned (as he had expected) to face him while she continued sweeping the floor.
“It’s only sweeping, not that big of a deal. It’s not like the mug was full, in which case I would have to mop. If you made me mop I’d be totally pissed off at you.” Her eyes smiled brighter than her mouth did, blissfully unaware of Tyler’s thoughts.
“Well it was empty when it hit the floor, but wasn’t all that empty when it tipped over on my pants.” Tyler grabbed the now ice-soaked napkins from his lap and set them on the table, then grabbed a few more napkins and set them on top of his quite-dry pants. The hostess stood, apologetically laughing at the amusing sarcasm.
“Maybe next time you’ll think better than to pour your drink all over yourself and slam the mug into the floor” she retorted playfully. Tyler paused for a second, planning out his next few moves. This had already taken longer than he wanted to spend in the crappy bar he wanted no part of, but he wasn’t about to give up.
“If I could think hard enough to stop myself from being an asshole, trust me I would.” This was the most untrue part of the entire exchange. Tyler changed his mixed expression of inner-sorrow with outer-happiness to one of inner-regret and an outer expression that read of feigned amusement. The convincing switch worked, grabbing the attention of the hostess and causing the exact mental reaction he was hoping for.
“Trust me, you’re not an asshole” said the hostess in a smooth tone of honesty. “In fact you’re probably the nicest guy in here right now.” Her smile was very soft and warm as she looked straight into Tyler’s eyes. He switched his expression once again to inner comfort and outer happiness and met her stare. He flashed a look of intrigue across his eyes to catch her attention again.
“Do you want me to get you another drink?”
Game over.
Tyler’s fake expressions clamored with confusion to the ground as he shed his dishonesty. He was back to his cold, unexpressive face and a straightforward inner expression that read of unimportant carelessness.
“No, actually, I need to be getting out of here.” He grabbed his coat and threw it over his shoulders while sliding out of his chair.
“Are you sure? It’s free.” But the confused, once again high-pitched hostess knew she was fighting a losing battle as Tyler was no longer facing her, but had his shoulders turned slightly away to face the table. Tyler, however, didn’t want to draw any more attention to him with her trying to get him to stay. In an instant he turned on his façade of care and respect once again.
“I’m sorry, I really do have to go. But,” he started as he touched her hand with his, “Thank you so much for understanding and going through the hassle to clean up after me.”
Flustered and dazed she slowly responded. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.”
“I come in here on occasion so I’ll probably see you around sometime. Thanks again!” Tyler’s smile hardened to a concrete stare the second it was out of view of the hostess. He knew he would never see her again and couldn’t be more indifferent.