I was exhausted last night. I didn’t want to go to work, but I forced myself up and out with my cat underwear in hand. I got there at 6:30pm actually, which is unheard of! I’m a 10:30pm type of girl. So what do I do when I get there? I walk straight up to the sleaziest motherfucker in there and ask him if he wanted to see my pussy. What the hell, right? By sleazy, I mean a neon pink athletic type shirt. By pussy, I mean my cat underwear. Completely obnoxious, I know. Just my luck, he ended up being a RedBull rep!
I don’t know why there’s so much stigma about RedBull. All this talk about people dying from it is ridiculous to me. Maybe a gallon of it a day would kill you. However, moderation is key. Personally, RedBull saved my life. I needed it bad.
I ended up completely blowing this guy off despite the free RedBull, but where I ended up was worth it. A total futuristic experience. I didn’t realize it until about halfway through our time together, but he had robotic hands. No I swear, something wasn’t right with them. They were ice cold. Instantly, at the wrist they became warm. Also, there were two identical scars on each arm about three inches long where the wrist meets the hand on the thumb side. He just smiled and let me examine them. His talent was changing subjects almost to the point of me barely keeping up.
I’ll never forget his hands. I wonder what happened. Why couldn’t he tell me? Did you know that in Switzerland 15-20 people lose their hands in accidents every year, but for some reason Google can’t tell me how either. Some things don’t need explanations though. Everything you need is in someone’s eyes. I saw something. Which brings me to a quote from The Little Prince, “You become responsible forever, for what you have tamed.” He did suggest I just age the old fashioned way and die instead of becoming a robot though. I may or may not heed his advice.
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