I have the unfortunate habit of automatically looking at someone and classifying them into five categories: cool, decent, useful, annoying but useful and "I'd love to kick the living shit out of you". Handicap girl hit DEFCON 1 without much fuss.
She picks someone at random to be her "friend" which REALLY makes me wonder about her mental stability. One day, without notice, she starts talking to you. Like that. Not that you asked, or happened to look at her in any way or anything. No. It's like the lottery. Congratulations! Today she talks to you.
So I guess it's my lucky day and she starts talking to me in the cafeteria. I really couldn't have given a rat's ass if I wanted to. Off she goes about anime` and shit like that, and I'm thinking of my own version of Spacemoose and what he'd do to her. Thoughts of me setting her on fire and pushing her down the staircase start to look mighty appealing. But I hold myself back, you know, I need to graduate, and I have spent quite a bit of money already, let me finish this course before I go to jail.
There is at times this little voice in me that says "That's terrible, how could you think that?"
I don't know. How could I? Am I the only one with homicidal tendencies in this world?
Also, she's a poor little girl on a wheelchair. And we have to be understanding, or so I am told in this society, to people who are less fortunate than we are, no matter how amazingly annoying they can be.
For the first part, that's what's keeping me from wheeling her in front of oncoming traffic. If I just sit here quietly and nod once in a while, she will leave me alone. But it seems the more you sit there and pretend to listen, the more she has to say.
It eventually gets to the point that I can't take it anymore: "you know what?" I interrupt her.
"I hate Sailor Moon and any type of anime`. I think it sucks".
"W-why?! It's so great! Such amazing art!"
And I go "No, it sucks. It's a shitty style with shitty stories, with shitty characters, with shitty expressions that are mostly made for snotty little girls that lack any sense of imagination and have to dream about 12 year olds that mutate into 18 year olds and fly around.. sorry, but to me that's been done a zillion times over. It sucks. Dead. End".
Honestly. Some people take anime` a bit too seriously. It's like when people greet me with the Vulcan sign of live long and prosper, carry Star Trek insignia all over them, talk about space ships or the latest Voyager episode and they think they are cool. I just want to kill them.
Of course, you share this with anyone else, they tell you that "you are bitter and insensitive", so you just have to nod your head and have the slob drool their awesome knowledge in your ears. If you don't, him and the entire group of fanatics that found themselves in the school and formed the Star Trek Club will come with burning crosses in front of your lawn chanting William Shatner's songs. Oh, the horror, the horror.
For sure though, the last thing I needed really was this weirdo, on her wheelchair, shoving her Sailor Moon up my ass.
She puts her hand on my forehead. Gosh, your hands have been WHERE, may I ask?
Obviously finding my forehead warmer than usual, she tells me that "you are sick sick sick!" and I think she was trying REALLY hard to be funny or something, but it came out like she was about to burst into tears or kick me in the balls, if she had legs. Well, technically she does, and she stands up occasionally, but I think if I shoved her legs up her ass, she'd move better and would've a real reason to be bitter at life.
Anyway, she goes "You are strange!" and she wheels herself away. "Peace at last", went back to my notes and J. (an anime` girl who for once is cool because she resists the urge to tell me all about her favourite cartoons) says "I think you pissed her off" and I go "Ask me if I give a shit" and that of course is rhetorical and needed no answer.
"Don't worry," she says, "we'll go into our next class and she'll giggle like a freak at anything the prof says and will find a new friend". Wait, did I look worried there?
We go into class. Handicap girl tells J. to sit next to her, and she does, because J. wasn't really thinking.
J. is one of those girls that can sleep with her eyes open and still look like she doing something. Occasionally her head hits the computer behind her, but I haven't met anyone as good as her at catching up with sleep and not get caught once.
Anyway, who knows where her head was at the moment, probably still trying to recover from our previous class with Mr. Genius the polyglot moron professor. Handicap girl starts to tell her all about anime`, and J. snaps back to reality, looks at me in search for help and I mumble something about a new friend.
J. gets up, and says she has to do more important stuff than Sailor Moon, pissing handicap girl again. She doesn't really say she is pissed off. But you can clearly tell she's not a happy sailor.. uh.. uhm.
She then proceeds to surf every web site in town about the cartoon downloading pictures and giggling at every word that HA HA FUNNY PROF proceeds to say.
Eight months, three weeks, four days to go.