I met a girl in the Bathroom today.
While I was rushing to go hand in another last minute assignment on campus, I made a pit stop at the piddly diddly department. (The bathroom) As I walked in, another girl came up behind me looking rather flustered and rushed into the cubicle next to me.
So you know, there I am Peeing and suddenly I hear a muffled sobbing and a strange throaty something, a thrash, a crash and eerie silence. The way I was convinced that this girl had just hung herself. I kept thinking oh lord, I’m going to come out of this cubicle, and I’m going to look up and there will be a body hanging in the next one, and I’m going to have to do something.
Being the calm and logical being that I am, I texted my Friend to find out where he was, in case I needed back up and bravely stepped forward. But praise be to the Gods of drama as I opened my door, I heard the her cry again at that moment I really wanted to just kick down the door and give her hug and walk away like nothing happened, but I thought that was a bit much and also had I done that, I may have smashed a door in her face, which she probably did not need at that very moment… So I did what I had to and left her to bawl her eyes out in piece.
It’s Funny, a week ago. I was sitting in that exact same cubicle bawling my eyes out too. On Monday, I suddenly burst into tears while waiting at the Bus top, I was supposedly crying because I was going to be late for my lecture, and I really didn’t want to be. Eventually I managed to get to campus, but I was half an hour late for my lecture already, so I cried some more and not having the strength to go to my lecture I retired to THAT very same cubicle and bawled my eyes out.
I’ve spent most of the day trying to figure out why that poor girl was crying. It can only be one of three things: A scale, A pimple or a Boy. All three are equally tragic, and there is no way that any girl, (as hard core as she may think she is) could not cry in a situation involving a scale, a Pimple or a boy. This is the newly revised list of things that make girls cry.
Scales. Well scales are just rude, they have no tact or sympathy, it doesn’t matter how good you feel, the minute you step on a scale- you will be suicidal. Especially if you step on a scale at the gym, I have found that Gym scales are rigged and fixed at 70 Kg’, so we should take whatever amount we read and subtract 7 kg’s as this is your true weight. I swear this is true, if anybody knows about scales, it’s me. Trust me.
Pimples. Pimples are the devils creation. He is the only person I can think of that would be content to watch me try and live a normal life with another face attached to my face. I must admit though, I have never actually cried because of a zit, but I have fallen into a deep depression, which can be viewed as emotional crying, rather than physical, and it’s just as Bad. You know that saying? “whatever doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger” Whichever bright spark came up with that obviously didn’t have any pimples, because any sane person knows that it is better to be dead, than to have to deal with Zits, that have conferences in the middle of the night while you sleep, deciding to strategically place themselves in the most visible areas of the face. If this has never happend to you- I hate you. Also, Never say Never.
And finally! Boys. I cannot even “numerate” (Put in numbers) the amount of tears that have been shed over Boys. I don’t understand why we even bother, coz boys just don’t get it. Yet we still insist on curling up into a foetal position on our beds sobbing our eyes out in between shoving spoons full of ice cream into our mouths to make it better. Let us just take a moment to think about this shall we. Girls will never admit that they cried over a boy (to the boy is question) so what is the point then?? You’re just going to look like a crack whore in a foetal position while he gallivants around town making other girls smile. I ask you again. What is the point?? Boys aren’t worth our tears. There are many reasons to look like a crack whore, (like actually being a crack whore) but crying over a boy is not one of them. When it comes to boys, or anything with a penis in general (Unless it is Jsomething/Chris Brown) there is no point! So do yourself a favour, save your tears for the scale and Pimple encounters, because those are actually reasons to be upset!
Although the girl I bumped into this morning may never read this, I would like to say: I am sorry that I thought you were committing suicide in that cubicle; my imagination tends to get a little wild sometimes. However I would advise you to refrain from making suicidal type noises in future, it isn’t healthy.
Ps. If anybody else ever needs to shed a tear: SHB, last cubicle. However please don’t go there on Monday’s… unless you’re willing to wait an hour while I have my cubicle moment.