Was That too Rude?

Prolouge. (OFFENSIVE)

There sat a young girl, long jeans and a long jacket. 'New York's fucking cold,' you thought, melting into your lightly lined jacket. Sitting on a very small bench was you, the young girl. Seeming to be in late 20's, hair (whatever) length pulled into a small/large bun. Your jacket was of denim, in a blue color. Your pants were yoga pants pulled up to almost be defined by capris. You could see the shaved legs and the "landing strips" of stubble that your razor couldn't exactly cut clean. You rubbed your naked bare hand against your leg that was laying on the other, this making you slightly bend to rub the prickly stubble. You ran your fingers up and down, waiting for a sign of a cab you called to finally arrive. You saw many people walk around your zone, your sitting area. You saw cars zoom by as if superheroes, but none were your hero. The one to drive you to your new step in adult hood. Your apartment. You looked at the suitcase next to you, your music humming in your ears. It was just some beats composed by Gorillaz, without the singing. You liked it a lot, it was chill, and you need to be chill. You were very tense over the whole move, A, B, you were believing that the taxi would never come, which honestly made you a bit unsettled. You really wish for the one day you do something this drastic, it wouldn't go to waste. It was 9 AM ET, you remembered. You memorized the time, being its been racing in your head ever since you checked your phone for your Über, really wishing for it to arrive.
So you say, staring at a blank suit case and running your hands over the stubble patches. The patterns of the melodies ran in your ear drums, and soon it began to rain. You looked up to be greeted by a rain drop falling into your cornea, making you to quench, squint tightly, and look down, shivering. You felt the drop roll down your cheek, falling to your chin, dripping down to your lap. You sighed, feeling now the rain pelt your hair and your jacket. A ding ran in your ears, making you jolt in excitement. The phone light flashed on your face, the time reading '9:32'. You were surprised that you zoned out for that long, almost like you were suffering chronic depression and just wanted to kill yourself, but had to come up with valid points. You pulled your hand from your leg as you saw your Über driver texted you, rain droplets falling down on the screen. You wiped it off, covering your phone with one hand, holding it in between your thumb and the rest of you hand on the second one, hovering your thumb over the finger scanner on your phone, shining with a gold tint around the rim from the rain drops. '(XXX)XXX-XXXX
Hey, got into a car crash. Can't pick you up. Srry.' You groan in appalling, clenching your teeth. "30 minutes in the fucking rain, not even eating anything, not even shit- Just god fuck, kill yourself." You grunted at your phone, ranting to yourself. 'You're honestly cancer, you gay retard.' You stood, grabbing the suitcase and running the flaunt end of your hand against your head, flattening the parts that weren't flattened. Gripping onto the suitcase and walking down a place unknown made you mad, scared, and curious. Honestly, you're a confused hooker on Seinfeld.  You don't understand what the fuck is going on, you're mad because you got casted, and you're curious if Jerry Seinfeld's Bee movie meant he really got into touch with his crabs. You started to stomp down the sidewalk, herds of people growing as more cars pulled out and started to drive. You could see the sky of umbrellas or the hoodies up,  backpacks over heads. All you had was just yourself. Your bare open forehead, hair, fucking everything. At least the cloud of umbrellas were giving you some coverage, you'd be fucked otherwise. You soon found a small café, deciding to stop there. You honestly were soaked, so it wouldn't really improve anything, only making you cold as a radical feminist's heart, but you could kill for some food. You were feeling like a Jew in the fucking Holocaust. Too fucked? Maybe.
You pressed your hand against the metal to push it open, to be treated by cold air. You saw multiple people in the room. There was one table with two chubby men, one mildly toned man, and one normal weighted woman. This table caught your attention, being they were the loudest, and one of the chubbier men with graying hair was making a "I'm choking on dick and swallowing at the same time" cough, which really enticed you. The woman was fairly quiet, with blue intertwined with green eyes. All she seemed to be doing is laughing and sipping her coffee, but she was talking too. But you were surprised when you heard a yell. "Yo, dude, you don't have to stare, I know my fupa damn right sexy, but you can't go molest me for it ok, I am not Alison Gold and you are not Patrice Wilson, you will not be shoving your fingers in any of my hot sauce!" Your face felt scorching as you laughed, now the whole tables attention was towards you. "Ethan, not everyone loves your fupa, dog." A man with a deep voice, large lips and sultry eyes. He had hair over his forehead, black as night. He was the toned one. He was staring directly at you, soon smirking. "Damn, she's a pussy." He said in a cocky tone, that made you slightly confused. Was he flirting or being a dick? The other chubbier man with stubble, like the two other men looked at the 'Ethan' fellow and said, "George is right," The 'George' guy rolled his eye over the name. "Bro, use Joji, man. Or puss destroyer." The woman seemed even more embarrassed by the  comment of 'Ethan', she hid herself a bit. The coughing man motioned for you to come over, which you happened to. As soon as you reached him, the restaurants eyes went off from you to other events, such as the F.R.I.E.N.D.S-esc poetry reading hour, with a woman on the guitar, reading her words in a angry voice. "So fupa loving girl, why you be staring, dawg." He made a sign with his hands as if it was a V and a A and he looked directly at you, all seriousness was in his face. "You guys were really loud and shi-" The George guy looked up at me and said. "Hey, don't say that word. That's a disgrace to fecal matter." Now you knew he was a ass. You ignored it, being the nameless man soon said, "Look, he's just being a dick because he is just in a bad mood or some shit about his job. He really just wanted to ask if you'd like some coffee, since we embarrassed you horribly." He was obviously the only one being serious, and soon the girl who was hiding herself started to speak. "I apologize on my husbands behavior," She had a very thick Israeli accent as she said the words. "He probably thinks that you're a fan of ours." She apologetically said, you shrugging. "It's cool, it was funny." You admitted, letting your shoulders roll back into place. "Look, let us buy you a coffee for the inconvenience." "Wait, Jon, what the fuck? Why would we need to buy her coffee, she doesn't fucking care. She's probably her to get a job or some shit, shaking her ass for tips." 'George' looked at 'Jon' and spoke, seeming a bit more serious. You could just go back to getting a coffee, honestly. Why are you still standing here? Would it be rude to just walk off? You honestly didn't know. 'Jon' than stood up, looked away from 'George' to you, and walked over to you. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Here, come with me." He could tell you have no fucking idea where the fuck you are.
You followed him to a counter, a lady smiling soon saying in a fake-nice southern tone. "What would y'all like?" She then opened her eyes to look at me and him. The man showed his arm to the black boards with words scribbled all over it. You shrugged, looking at the big old worn and torn chalk boards. You could see the old chalk dust on them, the stains. You soon announced your choice, which was just a regular coffee with flavored creamer. You nodded at the lady asking you if you're sure, the man paid, and that was it. The lady asked for your name, even though she obviously didn't need it, being everyone already got their drink. "(Your Name or Nick Name)," you told her. Jon turned away and started walking back to the table of, well you couldn't really make of it. Before he managed to even get into the others eye sights, you yelled at him "Thanks," as he returned to a thumbs up signal. You nodded, sincerely thankful. You're like an old guy who finally got a boner, fuck. You soon watched him go back to his high chair, soon directing your eyes out the window. The rain was against the glass as you could see the letters of "Sabrina's Finger Licking Good Coffee Treats!" You thought of how gay, long, and stupid of a name that is.  You did decide to ignore it though, being its harmless. It's just a name. A retarded name. "(Name you chose)!" You heard your name ring as you walked over to the area where you pick up the coffee. It was in a earth-friendly paper cup and had your name with hearts. You looked at the cup, taking your fingers and tracing them along the seems. You took a sip while beginning to walk out the door, not very much wanting to stay. Then you heard a small, minuscule voice peep into your neurons. "Job. Here."
Oh shit, yeah you need a job. You were in New York to get your name big as a comedic star, but you were piss broke, being your parents thought your dream was bullshit. You don't have any fucking college education too, so you really can't fucking turn back. You looked over and decided to walk back up to the lady, before hearing the 'George' guy. His friends were over at the table, talking in their own pitiful conversation. The guy looked at you with deep brown eyes and looked into yours. "You gonna take up my idea, huh?" You raised an eyebrow, quizzical on how he knew. "Yeah, how would you know-?" "I noticed how you turned away from the door, dumb ass. I'm not a retard." He said, grabbing onto the door. "Want a smoke?" You seemed a bit surprised at him offering you a small bit of his cancer. "How sweet of you to offer me death, but I need this job." You walked off as 'George' leaned against the door, popping a cigarette into the slit of his top lip and bottom one, placing his back on the metal to push, just to see you walk off. He put his hand over the cigarette and put the flame to the bud to ignite the flame. "Nice ass, but sassy. Boner killer, ha." He grumbled, going outside and leaning on the building, letting the rain drop. You ran over to the lady that you ordered from, put your hands behind your neck. She seemed to have the same fake attitude, but did have a bit of nippiness in her voice. "No refills, we're not Starbucks." 'No shit, you're not a billion dollar brand. The fucking co-owners wipe their ass with the money they get while you guys have to try and find a fucking penny.' "No, I just wanted to see if I could get a job here?" She looked you up and down, and scuffed. There went the fake tone, here same the insincere and shitty mood. Love it. "It's not that easy, you have to fill out an application, then-" You interrupted, not really giving a shit how this made her view you. "Yes, I do understand, but may I have the application." You spit at her, the corners of your mouth moving upwards, causing you to look like the cartoon Grinch and causing you to smirk gently. She rolled her green eyes as her blonde hair swayed behind her. "Fine, let me get it, master." You smiled in a innocent, sweet smile. "Actually, customer!" You corrected.
After the wait she put on you for your comment, you got your application, which you stuffed in your jackets pocket, crossing your arms over your lower torso so it wouldn't move or get rained upon. You then walked out, knowing to soon return. Opening the doors you were created by people stampeding, and still harsh rain, it's only been 20 minutes, it wouldn't settle down until a little longer. You noticed the man again, smoking his cigarette that he held with his two fingers, covering his lips and his defined Cupid's bow. "You know, this cancer I have in my lips is pretty nice. Sure you don't want one?" You looked over at him, scrunching your face. You could smell the ash, but he didn't look bad. He was rubbing his eye as he inhaled the fumes that the tobacco made. He then picked up the small cigarette and moved it away, a puff of gray smoke moving out to the atmosphere slowly. You shrugged, causing him to smirk. "Never trust strangers." He showed you the empty carton of cigarettes like it was to phase you, to make you curl into a ball and scream of angst, looking at him as if he was God and crying out "Why?". No. You didn't fucking care. You started to walk away, knowing he was just prancing you. This made him shake his head and chuckle. "You'll be seeing me here more often," He said with a sinister undertone. He knew that you felt like he was a dick, and that you were annoyed by him. This was true. This made him happy, wanting to play this "game". He laughed and watched you walk off in the rain.
You've been walking for god knows how long, and all you found was probably a porn set up which is pretty fucking funny. You couldn't fucking find your new apartment, your phone was competent dead, and you were fucked. You were using the address that you scribbled on a tissue, that really didn't help. You had to hitch hike, which fucking sucks. You started to move your thumbs back and forth as the rain fell. Many people passed, many. You were giving up hope. You gave out one more thumb, then squatted down. You heard a horn blaze, as you were taken back by that. Shit, that's not funny nor fun. "Hey, you alright? You look homeless." Some guy said with glasses and blonde hair. You looked up to the car window and saw the man in a... Cop uniform? But you were guessing he isn't a cop..? You were very fucking confused. "I asked you a question," he said, trying to get a answer. You shook your head in a yes signal making him mumble under his breath, "Thought so." You got up and went to his window. You sighed and gave him the address, explaining your situation in one sentence. "I can't find my apartment." He nodded, sighing. "I can try, I've never heard of this, but I mean fuck it." He motioned you to get in, which you followed, going into his SUV. You sat in the passenger seat as he started to drive, looking down to find out where the fuck you needed to be. He licked his bottom lip as he focused on the specific details to drive you home. You sat there, staring at the gardening gnome placed besides your feet. "Found it," he smiled in politeness. "Here I'll take you there now." 'No shit.' You nodded though, and store out the window. The gray melancholy buildings stood as if they could never crash, as if they were all that mattered. You watched the worn and torn faces, the arguments, the illegal things that happened in the ally's. The car abruptly stopped though, sooner or later as you jolted back and forth. He hand his hand the shift, and looked at you, then the vast orange building in the view. You sighed, knowing that was you. You looked over at the guy as you said a "Thank you," and he responded with something about being a rat? Honestly you left before you could comprehend what he was trying to make out. You looked at the shit hole.
Your apartment. Your living space. No one but you for the rest of your life. You sighed and tried to feel for your suitcase. Air..? You fell to your knees and screamed into the air, exhaling all frustration. "Fuck me in the ass!" You shouted as you growled, deciding to go and find your apartment before the neighbors already want to hang you. You ran up two staircases, wandered vacantly in two halls, until you found the one. It was a shit small room, with a queen mattress and barely anything else. You sighed as you noticed the line green painting that made you want to vomit, or the kitchens tile how it looked like a domino inspired "fucksterpiece", or the cracks in the wall, or the stains on the fucking stove. You didn't even want to witness what the bathroom has to offer.
You sighed, going over to your vacant, small bed and just falling in it, feeling like shit. You listed everything in the suite case and all the things you need, and this and that, till you fell asleep to a short nap at only 4 PM.