A Diary About Us

Entry 2

An Entry from Lily’s Diary
One Embarrassing Day

Dear Diary,

     I’ve never been accused of being a stealer. Not now. Not ever – having been said outright on my face anyway.

     Is being a blonde such a sin? That when I walk down the aisle and women notice their men looking at me appreciatively, they would eventually surmise that I am bound to seduce and steal their men? Like please, I am classier and have taste. Goodness! Is this what I get for finally shedding out my prudish self a few years ago and being confident with my body? And some people really assumed I am an airhead by just looking at my outward appearance. Ugh!

     The dooming of the world really is not far with how some people act out over such trivial matter and being as shallow as an empty lake reflecting only their outward beauty – if it is the standard of humanity now.

     Like earlier at the supermarket, I could not believe I actually pity the man with a glowering woman clutching him by the arm with vice-like grip. He was just being a nice guy and helping me out, getting those cartoons of strawberry milk I couldn’t reach at the top shelf by the dairy section. Never did he think that such good act would result to his girlfriend sliding by his side the moment after and telling me in such colourful way that I don’t dare steal her boyfriend. Like, what the hell was that?

     I never thought my big blue eyes could not get any bigger, but I was wrong. I was stunned to say the least. Did I look like a man-stealer? I never did such ridiculous thing in my life. I was tempted to give her a rundown of all the guys I rejected before just to spite her, but I didn’t. It would just be a waste of time. I gave the man instead an apologetic smile and thanked him, telling him in a clear and loud voice, so that his girlfriend would hear, that my son would appreciate his kind deed. Then I wheeled my cart away from them.

     Never would I think that it was just a prelude to what was coming.

     So I turned a corner to the next aisle while shaking my head at what just happened, and that was the moment when my world collided – literally. One second I was on my two feet, the next one I was sprawled on my butt! And in the middle of the supermarket nonetheless!

     And if that was not embarrassing enough, I actually heard the tearing of the red skirt I wore and I was sure I flashed my underwear to the very man in front of me who was responsible for the whole fiasco. God, how I wished the ground would open up at that very moment and swallow me up.

     And I hate him. I hate him!

     Although he apologized and sort of helped me get out of there with atleast a shred of my dignity still intact by lending – no, that was not the right term. After he helped me up by holding me by the waist without even asking for my permission, he stood at my back and unceremoniously shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around my waist, concealing the indecent slit at the side of my now ruined skirt. My wits were out as I was still getting my bearing back so I was like a mute during the whole process. Grrr! 

     And it was his fault.

     Okay, maybe I was not looking at where I was going also but that was beside the point when he insinuated – no, when he said that it was my fault my skirt tore at the side. That gall of a man and he is still making my blood boil just by thinking about it now. He might be handsome with his hard body underneath his shirt and he smelled good but that did not excuse his boorish behaviour.

     Ugh! I hope to never see him again.

     Wait – why am I complimenting him here? He’s not handsome at all and he smelled bad just like his rude behaviour.

     But I’m still embarrassed about it.

     This was so not my day.



Face-palming,
Lily