Here's something silly to while away the time that may or may not be entirely true:

It was one of those depressingly boring days, the kind with clouded skies, a downpour of rain and no chance of the sun ever shining and warming the muddy earth. Due to the nature of the day I decided to spend some time at the mall, by myself, with every intent on being the loser girl walking around with no set destination in mind, because apparently anyone wanting to get out of the house for a while is a loser and no one goes to the mall unless it’s a quick stop to buy a gift or you’re with friends. Such silly little rules have never stopped me before (except that one time I completely ruined a relationship with a guy because I refused to call the school and tell them his ‘mom’ was picking him up early), and so I went.

Upon reaching the mall I did a whole lot of nothing, including buying. I don’t go to buy; I go to browse, like every other woman on this pitiful planet. I say it’s pitiful because I’m under the distinct impression all the other planets mock it, and earth is just this lonely emo ball of blue and green who would sit in the corner and cry except Pluto is already there hogging the corner for his self.

But I digress, my point is I rarely buy anything, and if I were to buy anything it’d be in Waldens Book Store, but I won’t be buying a book today, I don’t have the money. Still though, it’s fun (and the term is used loosely) to peruse the massive amount of books in stock and jot down titles I’m interesting, such as Dark Gold, which sounds very interesting and right up my alley. Come on, treasure? Monsters? It’s a dream come true.

After the ample time spent in Waldens, and after one too many suspicious glances (you’d think they’d know me by name now) I left with every attention on getting a energy drink, my addiction of choice. It’s been tradition since my friend introduced the deplorable things to me that anytime I go to the mall I get one and drink any health I may actually have away. Once I had a drink in hand I quickly claimed a table and seat in the conveniently provided area, this is essential as the Full Throttles exquisite taste is one that needs to be savored, cause I sure as hell ain’t going to be getting any delicious drink at home without hearing the words ‘bad’, ‘addicted’, and ‘awful’ while sipping, and that makes savoring very hard indeed.

So I find a seat, plunk my ugly as hell (please, pardon the language) purse down on the table and prop my feet up on the chair next to me, fully intent on sipping my poison like a fine wine. Then he shows up, no I don’t know him and I’m pretty damn good with faces and remembering people(and there was something about him that you wouldn’t forget), he just sits down across from me with the original Full Throttle in hand and stares. Naturally I’m uncomfortable, but I stare back and edge my purse closer to me. He just stares more and sips his drink, I fidget.

“I like your shoes.” He blurts out suddenly. I’m taken aback and look down to see which shoes I had shoved on that morning (afternoon?), they’re black high tops with maroon laces and star and skull stickers stuck on randomly.

“I like them too.” I answer, drinking my own Throttle. He stares at me and I stare at my shoes... maybe I should draw on them.

“I like your hat too.”

“Thank you.” I also liked my hat, but that was obvious, I was wearing it. My parents call it my signature; I’m always wearing it. In case you’re wondering it’s plaid, a nice muted plaid with tan and brown and red, and it has two buttons randomly stuck on. I’m proud of it.

We’re sitting in silence, he was guzzling his drink down and I was savoring mine. “Is that kind good?” He asks, referring to my Blue Demon (that’s what it’s called); I nod, it is good. He gets up and wanders back to the vending machine, inserting another two dollars and getting a Blue Demon for himself, then he comes back and sits down, still across from me. He chugs that one down too, and I’m still on my first.

“You drink a lot.” The apparent and gaucherie are my friends, I don'y go anywhere without them.

“I do.”

There’s something to be said about my power of holding a conversation, and that is I don’t have one. Somehow that’s never covered in grade school, 'how not to be socially awkward' is also another subject never covered.

“My name’s Kaitlin.” I mutter, finishing off my drink and mourning its loss.

“Logan.” He muttered back, wincing while he drank his own demon. Then he’s back to staring and I’m back to being drinkless and considering holding a wake for my dearly departed friend. “I work at Hot Topic, do you like Hot Topic?”

Yes, I like Hot Topic, I tell him as much.

“You’re quiet.”

“That’s what people tell me.” I’m not quiet all the time, just around strangers... and mostly everyone I know... sometimes dogs too. I’m also tired of hearing people point out I’m quiet, I’m already aware of this fact, I’m constantly in my own presence and you tend to pick up on these sorts of things when you hang around yourself all the time.

I must have said that aloud, he’s chuckling now. I wonder what else I say out loud when I’m thinking, hopefully nothing too bad. “You’re funny.”

“Thanks.” I’m not really thankful, I think he understood that, must have been the heavy sarcasm in my voice.

“Any time.” He waved it away and smashed the blue can down on the table. “That was good.” I just nod, perhaps he’d like to hold a wake for his friend too, we can make it a double wake.

He chuckled again; I must have said that out loud too. I really need to stop doing that, I should invest in a brain to mouth filter, or an alarm system that goes off before I say something stupid, but then again it’d always be going off and eventually I’d just ignore it and still say stupid things. No alarm, then, but the filter is still up for grabs.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I sat down here?” I wasn’t really, I just figured he wanted company and I was the only human this side of the mall sitting down, well I exaggerate, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only human this side of the mall under the age of forty. JcPennys is down this way, so is Macys and some silly little jewelry store.

“Why did you sit down here then?” I ask, humoring him.

“You looked lonely.” Was his answer.

The last person who sat down with me because I looked lonely I ended up hating. I hope this doesn’t go the same way. “That’s nice. I was really contemplating the answer to life, though, now you’ve gone and messed me up.” Ah, intended humor.

“Don’t bother, it’s forty-two.”

I grin at him, “Really?” I ask, he just nods sagely,

“Yes, what you really need to be contemplating is the question to life.” He said contemplating wrong, but I wasn’t going to point it out.

“How many roads must one man travel?” I recall, hopefully correct, I haven’t read or seen Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy in a long while.

“You’re a fan, then.” He sits back and eyes me, I feel like a mouse that had wandered to close to the snake encaged in a glass exhibit. “Book or movie?”

The ultimate test, “Book.” He grins, I passed. We don’t talk, I watch the people and he watches me, but that’s okay, it’s not a creepy stare.

“I have to go back to work,” He doesn’t move, I nod to let him know I heard him. “You should stop by sometime.”

“Okay.”

He leaves; I don’t go to Hot Topic.