YOU THINK THAT'S FUNNY?

Anyone who has ever been strapped for cash knows all to well that if you can't afford to go grocery shopping you start to get creative. Ranch dressing for pasta sauce? It could be good. Rice-a roni-Ramen-chicken helper? Let's see how many carbs we can toss together in one pot. For the past couple of days, I've completely out of ideas,(and ingredients) so it's been endless buttered noodles for me.

I haven't had a good week. Besides being broke, I broke something very close to my heart this morning. My pipe. Although it hasn't been getting much use lately, it was my baby, and it was magical. I had lost it countless times throughout the years, at parties, bars, and friends houses but somehow it was always returned to me, sometimes by people I barely knew. Somehow, they knew it was mine. I'm telling you, magic. So naturally, I couldn't wait to leave work and go home to deal with my grief. To add to my depression, one of the waitresses was angry with me, my boss yelled at me, and I had some drunk guy hitting on me. He was completely wasted and wouldn't let up until finally I spit out the words Fuck off, and he got the message. I didn't even think twice that he was a paying customer.

As I was walking home, I called my father to vent to him about all my troubles, when some asshole passing by decided he wanted to be a mister funny guy. He was much shorter than I am, wearing a perfectly ironed t-shirt that looked straight out of Hollister with his polo zip-up hoodie adorned over his right shoulder like a fucking parrot. Just for the hell of it, Mr. funny guy decided to scream in my ear as he was passing. He got the reaction he wanted. It was so loud it made me jump a mile and a half because I thought I was being attacked. He just kept walking away.

Somewhere between the buttered noodles, bitchy boss, broken bowl, drunk guy and a wicked case of PMS this guy messed with the wrong girl. I hung up on my father, and chased after the comedian. I got right up in his face, and I went off on him. I don't mean I was kind of rude, I scared the hell out of this guy.

"Do you think that's funny you fucking asshole?" I screamed after him down the street.

"Ahh, yeah actually I do,I find it very funny," he said with this shit grin on his face. His eyes were as wide as they could be, but he tried to mask his fear by not turning and walking away from me. Instead, he just kept backing up, walking backwards down and entire block to the point where he was almost running in reverse.

"Oh, really you piece of shit. Why don't you get a fucking life," I screamed at him two inches from his face.

"I have a life, it's right over my right shoulder here." I instantly looked at his stupid zip-up parrot sweater. Great comeback frat boy. What does that even mean?

"Who the hell does shit like that?" By this point we he had been retreating for a block now. He kept staring up and me and attempting to say something intelligent. All I kept saying was every swear word that came to mind. Finally, I rolled my fist up, and raised my hand ready to hit him.

"I should punch you in the fucking face, see if it's still funny." And with that, I almost did. I raised my fist, about to swing but something stopped me. I could kick myself for not doing it. But, I got the reaction I wanted. He flinched and ducked his head a little, covering his face with his hands. His friend however, had some shred of intelligence and realized that I could kick his short scrawny Hollister ass, and stepped between the two of us.

"Hey, hey. Listen, I'm sorry. He's just.....he's sorry." And with that he tried to take his comedian friend away from me. I turned to walk away, when I heard him calling from the other side of the street, still walking backwards.

"I like them feisty like that. Sexy." Of course, the best he could do now that I bruised his manhood was to to sexually harass me. Why are people like this allowed to exist? I hope the next person he decides to play his little prank on turns out to be some feisty pedophile who likes to ass-rape frat boys.