And here we have a new speciMan. He's not like the guys who usually try to get my attention. He's not ignorant, he's not a cute little christian kid, he's not staring at my butt, and he's not swaggering. Don't get your hopes up.
He's my height, his black and to his shoulders, he has snakebites on either side of his chin and one little diamond right in the middle of the bearded fringe on the tip of his chin, and tattoos from shoulder to wrist. He wears band T-shirts and chains. He's antiestablishment, as you may have guessed. A poet. A writer. A videographer working for some underground punk bands.
I was literally talking to Britanny, the girl next to me, about her upcoming internship. He's walking right beside me
"two days, two days and I-" she's saying,
"so how was your weekend?" he asks me. Britanny looks startled, I shrug. She hurries ahead of me, and I'm trapped.
"It was nice, actually. I worked every night, but I love work, so it's okay." I answer, unable to help smiling from his sheer boldness. This is the second week he has done this. I wonder why. He walks me all the way to the top step of the library before leaving.
This one could be interesting.
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