~papergori

I do not know what to even call it. I don't suppose I should call it an "incident", it's unrivaled in its insignificance, and also in the speed taken for the insignificance to manifest itself. Meaning that I think it does not even qualify the use of the term. In fact I'm not even sure if it really did happen, or was the product of my abusive imagination. BUT even if it didn't happen, it is a thing that troubles me enough to write about it.

No, reading it again doesn't help much, does it?

What happened is this:

As usual I was walking home after college. It really isn't that bad, in fact I quite like walking home. It's nice, as long as it's one of the days that the dog at the Bandar Utama bridge is not feeling territorial (I'm being totally straight, and if you pass by that way often, you know which mangey bitch I'm talking about). Anyway, as I was approaching said bridge, I met with a girl that was walking the opposite way from me. A plain looking girl, wearing an awfully plain white v-neck shirt, and the most average looking pair of jeans ever. Not the most outstanding person in the world, save for the fact that she had, strung around her neck, a RAPE WHISTLE.

At least I THINK it was a rape whistle. This is the part that I'm not entirely sure about, and if I'm wrong the whole story would be even more trivial than it already is. It looked like one from afar, but as we approached each other I decided I didn't want to stare and so forced myself to look away. So anyway we continued towards each other up to the point where our paths collided, and because of the narrow sidewalk we had to sort of maneuver around each other. As this was happening, from the corner of my eye (I was still forcing myself not to look) I saw her clutch at her pseudo-rape-whistle.

I was really stunned. Not that I'm offended or anything, better safe than sorry, right? It'd just been nagging at me constantly since it happened this afternoon, and I thought that this was as good as a venting ground as any.

Bet you feel gypped out of your time, don't you?