The Diaries and Misadventures of a Social Misfit – 2

“So, that’s it?” He sister said as she came into the room without knocking. “One bad interview and you’re shutting yourself up in your room?”

“I found that to be the safest course of action.” She said calmly, without taking her eyes off her phone.

“Ummm, lying on bed all day while browsing facebook does not qualify as ‘Action’, you know.'”

“I’m not on facebook,” she replied, unmoved. “I deactivated my account. Too many happy people.”

“Those shameless monsters!” Said the sister sarcastically with squinting eyes.

“No…” she sat up. “I’m serious. The whole thing is like a giant microscope. Everything looks bigger and better than it is. A trip to the beach looks like the trip of a lifetime, a simple gathering of friends at a local café seems like a dream, a high-class velvety fundraiser makes it feel like they’re gonna end world hunger. And you’re sitting there like a peeping tom with a pair of binoculars, observing the mood changes of people you couldn’t care less about, browsing carefully picked photos of beautiful people with big, wide smiles going on and on about their friends and their jobs, all the while reminding you that you don’t have any of those things…”

“Well then get up and go find yourself some friends!”

“I don’t want friends!” She slumped back onto the bed. “You’re missing the point.”

“Then get up and go find yourself a job.”

“Tried. Didn’t work out very well.”

“How bad could it be? I don’t understand. We all have bad interviews, that doesn’t…”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” She said sharply, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll get a job when I get a job.”

“Yeah, but based on my humble knowledge of the labor market, jobs don’t usually come knocking on your door.”

“Invaluable information, thank you.” She raised her eyebrows in mock astonishment.

“Suit yourself.” He sister finally surrendered. As she left the room, Dina got up from the bed and walked towards the big window. She pulled the curtain slightly aside and stood there staring at nothing in particular, thinking that her sister had a point. What’s next? She’s has graduated a year ago and she’s yet to find a decent job.

Suddenly, her gaze froze, she felt the blood draining from every vein in her body, and her muscles turned to stone. There with the same yellow smile and the stench of smoke she could smell without smelling, stood the man responsible for her latest phobia. But he wasn’t alone, along with him there was a woman dressed in an elegant navy dress, wearing her hair down, and two children who ran and jumped in front of them. They were clearly a family, and a happy one too.

The moving truck didn’t leave much for speculations: those were their new neighbors.

The Diaries and Misadventures of a Social Misfit

“3 scoops, on a cone. Dark chocolate, double chocolate and chocolate mint.”

The guy at the ice cream parlor stared at her for a few moments, trying to figure out whether she meant what she said.

“Hello!” She blurted out pettishly.

The ice cream guy went to work right away. This didn’t seem like a girl who appreciates her ice cream taken lightly. He quickly scooped out the globs, stacked them on top of each other with little tact, and stretched it out to her.

“Not so fast.” She said, still upholding the same scowl she came in with. “Syrup, and lots of sprinkles.”

Spoiled grump. He thought to himself. A girl who doesn’t lighten up at the sight of 3 scoops of chocolate ice cream is probably one with deep issues, the kind of girl that’s not very easy to please.

“I suppose this is your lunch.” He said teasingly.

“Are you saying I’m fat?” She snapped. “Look.. Kareem or whatever,” she glanced at his name tag, “I might be a little bit on the chubby side but I definitely won’t call myself fat, and I know what I’m doing here. Besides, who are you to call me fat? Look at yourself looking like a broom stick despite working in an ice cream parlor. How is that possible? You people drive me crazy!”

“We… people?” He questioned.

“Humans!” She snapped again.

He didn’t retort, just carried on with his colossal task silently. She felt a pang of guilt. Why was she taking her anger out on him? She shouldn’t have done it half an hour ago at that fiasco of a job interview before she stormed out of the office.

The footage played back in her head.

“We don’t have vacancies right now, but I’m willing to help you if you’re willing to help me.” The 50-something man behind the desk shot her a smoke-tinted yellow smile. It took her a few moments to register what he said, aided by the reflection in the glass panels of the wall unit behind him.

She felt her stomach turn. Suddenly she didn’t want that ice cream anymore.

“It’s for you.” She worked-up a smile as the young man behind the counter handed her the finished work of chocolaty art. “Enjoy it.” She said as she ran out of the shop clutching her stomach before emptiying it all out on the sidewalk.

To be continued…