My experience in the Marina today has confirmed the local cunt energy yet again through a very routine encounter. Let me ask you – when was the last time a girl asked you, a guy, what time it was? Let alone in the Marina?! Aren’t they too cool to ask anyone for anything, at least when they are completely sober early afternoon?
Anyway, I sit and read at the Roastery on Union. Your typical angry-looking, cunt-face in her mid/late 20’s comes in like she owns the place, sits down at the table next to me and a few minutes later says “Do you have the time?”
Since there were a few other people at the shop I wasn’t sure if she was asking me, but I assumed she did, since I had a fairly big watch on my wrist. I then looked at my watch, looked up and directly at her and said “It’s 3:25”.
Not only didn’t she say “thanks”, but she did not even look up to acknowledge my response. She continued looking down into her purse while seemingly trying to find something in there (let me take two wild guesses – she was looking for her i-phone or a chopstick). It’s as if I was some kind of automated service responding to people’s inquiries and not a human being to her. Way to go…