He walked through the glass doors, and you could smell the alcohol from twenty metres away.
His face was covered in bandages. There was just a little bit of seemingly blonde hair.
His friend — (handler?) — said he had a facelift. Please excuse all his bandages.
“That’s okay,” I said. Yes it must’ve hurt a lot. I’m sorry you had to go through all that pain.
“Would you ever get a face lift one day?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. If I’m getting older and I really don’t like what I’m seeing in the mirror, yes?”
“Ahhh, yes, you have to like what you’re seeing in the mirror!” His friend repeated and turned to him to say.
He pointed to himself, muttered something in another language, then pointed to me, and muttered something again.
His friend explained in English, “He said, beast” (pointing to him), and “beauty!” (pointing to me).
I said, “Nooooo…” as I vehemently shook my head. I mean, I was wearing a cute dress that day. I had makeup on. I did happen to be feeling pretty. But not to the extent of a “beauty” versus a “beast”…
He wanted to hug me. But the smell of alcohol was the biggest deterrent. Please, no. I don’t want to hug a human full of alcohol. I physically couldn’t. I turned them away. Please leave me alone. Whoever you are.
I don’t want to know this alcoholic man.
Virgo Sun Pisces Moon 