What to do now. *book two*

Cammo and Clowns

I get to go home eventually, and bill gave me his number in case he ever needed someone to babysit Amelia because he no longer trusts his step wife that much.

Also, people recently have been saying and asking if I'm fat on my Instagram posts.

I don't understand why, I'm not fat.

Yes, I'm big, but in a muscly way, not a fat way.

I go to the gym quite often and a lot of the time, I'll wear a grey vest and my military cargo pants, and my military boots on the way to and from, but I'll have black trainers in a bag for when I'm actually working out. And since I almost always wear my dog tags, some people will ask me if I served in the military, and I did, so I'll say yes and they'll be like, "we're proud of you for serving this country!"

You're welcome?

So yeah. And now, I'm on my way to an interview after going to the gym, and this time I have my jacket too because it was slightly colder earlier today so I'm not wearing it now, but I have it folded over my arm.

I'm directed to the "stage" and I'm sat down whilst these people sort out the interviewer mans makeup.

They don't even think of touching me before going off and then I guess the interview starts.

"So, Damien Jean. I'm Mike."
"Hi."
"Care to explain your amazing choice of outfit today?"
"I was at the gym. This is what I picked up when getting dressed, for the gym."
"You we're at the gym?"
"Yeah, I'm there most days. And you?"
"From time to time, yeah."
"I know, cause I've seen you."
"You have?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, so, what's that on you arm?"
"My jacket. It was cold today."
"Cold?"
"Yeah."
"Can we see you with you jacket on, military man?"

I put my jacket on, but leave it unfastened.

"Have you got a hat?"
"A hat?"
"Yeah! A camouflage hat!"
"Yeah, it's in my bag."
"Ooh! Where's your bag?"

I point to my rucksack down by the side of the couch I'm sat on.

Mike gets up and runs over to my bag, "that's trainers, those are nice trainers! Wish my wife would let me by some like that."
"Give me your shoe size I'll by some for you."
"Seven."
"Cool."

I write it down on my hand, "what colour?"
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah! You're already way nicer than that Lillie lass who interviewed me a few years back."
"I'm honoured."
"So what colour?"
"I don't know... most of my trainers are white, so... I'll go with white I guess."
"Cool."

He continues rooting through my bag, "phone... charger... a book in... Russian? I think? And a diary or something..."
"Note Book."
"Okay. Water bottle, wallet... ooh! Is this it?"

He pulls out my military hat, "Ah ha!"

He then closes my bag and runs over and puts my hat on the right way round and squeals excitedly.

"Ooh! Wait! I think there were sunglasses in there!!"

He runs back to the bag and gets out my sunglasses and runs over and hands them to me and so I put them on.

"Oh, this is so cool!! Stand up! Stand up!"

He gets me to my feet and genuinely looks so excited and people cheer.

I chuckle to myself and Mike high fives me.

I sit back down, and Take of my hat and sunglasses.

Mike decides to sit in the other end of the sofa as we talk.

"Are you fat!?" Someone asks.

"No, I am not! Why do people keep asking me that? There's comments like that all over my Instagram posts, it's insane!"
"You don't even look fat." Mike says.
"Exactly! I'm just... big!"

"Prove you ain't fat then!" Someone else shouts.

"Prove it? Fine!"

I Take of my jacket and hand it to Mike and he holds it delicately, as if, if he rugs it too much it might tear. It won't, but he's being THAT careful.

I then take off my vest and confirm, "see? Not fat. Just big."

"Say it again but put like bear at the end!"
"Not fat, just big. Like bear."

They all clap for some reason. It's either because they've heard a Russian say, Like bear, or, it's because of my incredible body.

I put my vest back on and set my jacket on my lap when I sit down.

I turn to Mike and his cheeks are slightly pink.

"W-well, now... now you know he's not fat! So... you... can stop calling him it, because we all saw he has a very lovely chest indeed, and very... very.... Lovely abs..."

I chuckle, "sorry, dear, I'm in a relationship at the moment. Come back to me when and if I'm ever single again."
"Will do!"

Shame, he seems so friendly!

"We can be friends, of course!"
"I'm honoured. So... next question, um... what... what happened to you recently?"
"Meaning?"
"There was something about you in the news."
"Oh yeah, these guys forced me into an overdose and I also had a hearty attack."
"Oh. And you miraculously survived?"
"Yeah, I can't die!"
"Oh yeah! How old are you?"
"Turned a hundred and sixty six some time in the previous months. I'm not telling you when."
"Why don't you want people to know your birthday?"
"Because i don't want people to bombard me with the happy birthday song, I don't want people to throw me a surprise party, because surprises scare me, I don't want people to bombard me with clowns, because I'm scared of clowns, and I just don't."
"Makes sense. Why are you scared of clowns?"
"You should see the clowns my father used to hire for any of my birthday parties... they had the most exaggerated and creepy faces you've ever seen and taking elongated fingers and legs and arms and we're stick thin and they used to just... crowd around me? Even if it wasn't my birthday! They just targeted me! And it was terrifying! Part of the read why i am claustrophobic, because they surrounded me like a swarm of- of... of swarming... flies! And I had no space to escape. My father has... gotten rid... of several of those clowns... because a lot of them... wanted to... uh.... Let's say... have me?"
"Have you- oh..."
"Mhm..."
"Now- see, that's a justifiable reason to hate clowns! As is... any reason! Clowns are terrifying!"
"See? You get it! Kes said I was weird for fearing clowns! The reason he said that, was because we were walking home and a clown was heading to a kids birthday party or something and it did that weird thing clowns do, of walking up to you all happy and waving and smiling and, of course, it being a clown, I freaked out! And the clown got freaked out, cause I was freaking out, and so I freaked out even more because the clown looked more exaggerated when freaking out, and then we bothe just ran the opposite directions of each other and I hid under a kiddy slide in a park and kes told me I was weird and that there was no justifiable reason for me just doing what I did, running off and hiding from a kiddy party clown."

Mike frowns, "he is mean!"
"Yeah, exactly."....