November, 2nd
I have been asked out by a bear.
This is a rather bizarre story that started with me going to the convenience store to buy some lunch; the potato croquettes they sell there are simply marvelous. The only problem was the fact that I had to leave my room.
Still, a horrible sense of emptiness in my stomach made me steel my resolve and go outside.
Normally, I visit the store pretty early – if I decide not to sleep at night – or sometime after the afternoon. This way there aren't that many people outside, so there's no crowding whatsoever.
But this time, I had arrived there much later than normal. Just in time for your average white collar worker to return home.
When all of my defenses were down, a surprise attack took place.
I'd met an old co-worker of mine, but the scene of our reunion was neither heartfelt nor touching. It was rather pathetic, or to be more precise, I was the pathetic one there.
All names will be omitted, so for now, let's call this acquaintance of mine Mr. Bear.
He was called such because of his burly, muscular body and arms as thick as a pair of logs, and this strange sense of charming awkwardness he had. Not to mention his frightening face that hid a rather soft temper. Truly, a man among bears.
Well, the only one who called him that was me. And only in my mind since we weren't that close as to use nicknames.
Mr. Bear and I entered the company at the same time, but as I said, we weren't close. As for that matter, I didn't have strong relationships with any of my co-workers save for a certain person…
But if I were to name someone with whom I was amicable, Mr. Bear's name would pop up naturally.
Despite all that, when he called me by name, a strong sense of consternation swelled up within my chest. Seeing that person, all prim and proper, made my mood somewhat sour.
It looked like he'd found a new job unlike this unworthy waste of space.
Bizarrely, I attempted to make small talk that soon escalated into something far more severe.
Mr. Bear, being the big softie he is, asked for my phone number and email and gave his in exchange. As he himself said, "chatting about the good old times with you would be nice."
Well, in his case, there were obviously no ulterior motives, but still… socializing.
I can't go into any fancy places like Starbucks or the like.
Visiting the local convenience store and enduring the local's clerk pitying gaze is my limit.
Still, this morning, I've found a new email asking whether I'm free this weekend.
I certainly am, but…
Ah, now my stomach hurts from all the nervousness.
"Should I go or should I decline?"
[] Go
[] Decline
[] Write-in