on chaotic evil

I couldn't get my mom on the phone, so I decided what I needed after today was a hard run (take a shot). I went to gypsy hill park. There's a paved driving loop that's a little over a mile and a half, so it's nice to run when I'm in a hurry and just want to stack miles. The driving loop means that there are always some cars going about 5 miles an hour over the speed bumps.

So I'm running, and this young redneck guy drove by really slowly in an old, beat-up white Cadillac, leaned out the window, and yelled "I think I love you!" as I ran by. I felt like today especially this was a particularly ironic thing for him to yell, like something out there had been listening to all the secret inane little things I hold in the smallest parts of my heart--listening so it could stomp them into the ground at an appropriate later time. I'd also thought I'd looked pretty today for the first time in ages, but felt like complete, worthless shit. So that also. I ignored him, he drove around the loop, yelled on his second pass, "I love you!" 

The third time he did this, I looked over at him in confusion, which I knew was a mistake. It seemed to encourage him. He drove the loop around again and again, escalating each time he passed me, while I blindly pretended to ignore him, "Can I have your number?" "Is that a yes?" "Is that a no?" Finally, he drove by so slowly by that the car is almost stopped, hanging out the window to wave a slip of paper at me, yelling "Just take my number!" 

All this time, I had been building slowly to a fever-pitch of cold rage. All I had wanted was this stupid run. It was the only thing. It was what I got. I hadn't wanted to have to stop, cut it short, and leave because some douche was harassing me.

So, I stopped. I lurched at his car in a suicidal haze and yelled in his face "Does that ever actually work?"

It was such a dumb thing to say. Of all the great stuff I could've yelled. All the good swear words I know, all the great right-things to say that I come up with hours after the fact.

He seemed genuinely confused too. He had blue eyes and he looked younger than me. He was wearing one of those dumb camo hats and his teeth were questionable in the meth kind of way. Of course. Of fucking course. My meaning sunk in, and he let the car roll on. He smiled his big dumb methtooth smile and offered, hopefully, sheepishly, boyishly, "..Uh...Maybe?"

I physically felt something shift in my head. It made a little click.