Tumblr account of artist Shinga (Amanda Bussell), of Head Trip!
He waited until the train was in motion to make his move—a true sign of someone who knows how to make the environment work to their advantage. Then he leaned forward. “Hi.” “How you doing?” “What are you reading?” “What’s your name?” “I really like your hair.” “That’s a really nice skirt.” “You must work out.”
It was painful to watch. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and he clearly wasn’t going to take the hint. Her rebukes got firmer. “I’d like to read my book.” And he pulled out the social pressure. “Hey, I’m just asking you a question. You don’t have to be so rude.” She started to look around for outs. Her head swivelled from one exit to another.
The thing was, I had already heard this story, many many times. I knew how it would play out. I knew all the tropes. I probably could have quoted the lines before they said them. I wanted a new narrative. Time to mix it up.
So I moved seats until I was sitting behind him. I leaned forward with my head on the back of his seat.
"Hi," I said with a little smile.
He looked at me like I was a little crazy—which isn’t exactly untrue—and turned back to her.
"How are you doing?" I asked.
"I’m fine," he said flatly without ever looking back.
"I really like your hair," I said. “It looks soft."
That’s about when it got…..weird.
He sort of half turned and glared back me, and I could tell I was pissing him off. His eyes told me to back the hell away, and his lips were pressed together tightly enough to drain the color from them completely.
But no good story ever ends with the conflict just defusing. He started to turn back to her.
"Wait, don’t be like that," I said. “Lemmie just ask you one question…"
"What!" he said in that you-have-clearly-gone-too-far voice that is part of the freshmen year finals at the school of machismo.
And I’m not exactly a hundred percent sure why I didn’t call it a day at that point, but…..maybe I just love turning the screw to see what happens. I gave him the bedroomy-est eyes I could muster. “What’s your name?”
Right now I’m sitting here typing out this story, and I’m still not entirely sure why I’m not nursing a fat lip or a black eye. Because that obviously made him so mad that I still am not sure why it didn’t come to blows. There are cliches about eyes flaring and rage behind someones eyes and shit like that that are so overdone. But it really does look like that. When someone gets violent, their eyes just kind of “pop” with intention—pupils dilate, eyelids widen. And his did. Even sitting down he was clearly bigger than me and I was pretty sure he was kind of muscular too, so at that moment I was figuring I was probably going to need an ice pack and sympathy sex from my girlfriend by day’s end.
"DUDE," he shouted. “I’M NOT GAY."
That’s when I dropped the bedroom eyes and switched to a normal voice. “Oh well I could see not being interested didn’t matter to you when you were hitting on her, so I just thought that’s how you rolled.”
I cant believe I almost scrolled past this.
this post is gold
I keep thinking oh man, I’m so immature. How am I allowed to be an adult.
Then I spend time with teenagers.
And it’s like, wow, okay, yeah. I am an adult. I am so adult. Look at me adulting all over the place.
me when i am mildly inconvenienced: thIS IS THE WORST THING THAT'S EVER HAPPENED TO ME
me when i am legitimately hurt/distressed: no no it's fine i've had worse
Huh, “cold” is actually a weirdly perfect way to describe it. I normally LIKE that TYPE of taste with other stuff, but cucumber is invasively so. Cannot stand it.
My mom has the same problem. She cant even stand it in sushi. I am… okay? with them, i guess. But We both fucking LOVE pickles. In my experience, people like one or the other.
Yeah I’m fine with pickles. I’m not rushing out to buy them or anything (well okay occasionally a jar of sweet pickles) but they’re usually fine. Very very different taste. xD
My boyfriend says it’s super weird that I cannot fucking stand cucumbers. Like I don’t even like the smell of them I hate them so much. I can handle A LITTLE bit in, like, sushi rolls… but if cucumbers touch a salad I find the entire salad is now tainted by the taste and smell of it and I just can’t eat it.
edit: to specify, he thinks it’s weird because in his mind cucumbers don’t really HAVE a strong smell/taste and I SERIOUSLY DISAGREE
I’d recommend it to young-ish able-bodied people who are comfortable with authority and like very strict schedules. It’s amazing for discipline, gives a lot of training (your ASVAB test will show you what you might be good at)… there are a lot of possible downsides, obviously. You risk injury and death and if you are female you’re faced with a lot of shit. But there’s a lot of good there too, a sense of family that’s hard to find in other places (very very doable, just harder)… I loved my limited time in the military, I really did, and for SOME people I do absolutely recommend that experience. It can also help pay for college, which is pretty fucking useful. :)
EDIT: D’oh, forgot - as far as the type of training, Basic is the same for everyone. It’s mostly physical while you also study and learn about rank, military law/behavior, basic marksmanship. The physical test includes sit-ups, push-ups and running. It’s been almost 10 years since I’ve been in and I hear some stuff is different but as far as I know what’s all still the same. You also spend some time in “the field” (sleeping in the woods) which can be fun or horrible if the place is infested with ticks -speaking from experience. Bugs are hard to get rid of in BCT because THOUSANDS of soldiers go through using the SAME bug spray so the bugs don’t care anymore. From Basic you go to AIT to train for your job so that’s different for everyone, but there’s still more physical training and such. There’s a lot of mental stuff (Drill Sergeants DO scream and yell but not as much as movies claim they do and they are actually invaluable and take care of you)… so yeah, after BCT things get different but physical training is constant. You need to keep up with PT requirements for your entire time in the Army.
Sorry, I’m still stuck on that Gordon Ramsay as the Potions Master post.
"We’re going to use fresh, vibrant dragon toenails, locally grown and sustainable."
"You don’t add eye of newt to a room temperature cauldron, you ignorant shit."
"It’s fucking raw!"
This would go great with Bobby Singer, Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Here, let me look it up in my How to Sweet-Talk Ukrainian Dragons manual. Oh, wait. No one ever wrote one."
Like when women hate men it’s frustrating at worst, maybe it hurts someone’s feelings, but when men hate women they are shamed, abused, patronized, demeaned, objectified, raped, and murdered, ya feel me, so even if I WAS a raging misandrist like worst case scenario I’d be a bummer at parties, meanwhile a girl somewhere literally can’t leave her house because it’s dark outside.
a friend while describing the story behind a tabletop he discovered recently