I am noticed, my clothing commented upon by those who think I don't hear, or simply forget to care. I am frightened wittlessly  away, and flee my surroundings in a hastened rush, unknowing of my own simple meanings and selfitude, and ... Grammar. I run to the familiar exit doors and realize, upon looking up from footandshoe that I am not where or who I had been led by selfandmind to believe, and things have changed. Again, I turn abruptly from those who almost certainly strive simply to attain my friendship, and as certainly feel judged by my intensive fear and escape tactivs. Evasive maneuvers! I find myself outside and far from home. Far from good, far from familiarity of comfort and comfort of familiarity.

I wander meaninglessly and with no meaning at all, haphazardly following footandleg, feetandlegs rather, eventually to my slight semblance of familiar home - my car. I give my hand an ill-thought order to open the door, and as if only to further solidify just how poorly planned my door-opening strategy is, it responds, jutting directly to the locked door-handle and tugging feebly as my keys jingle about in a mocking manner in the pocket opposite to my hand. I apologize to Hand as heart-felt and meaningfully as one can hope for when making amends with an insulted extremety, and unlocked the door. On to "home," now. By that I mean my residence, where I will neither run in fear nor foolishly offend well-meaning pieces of my body.

Of course, as is to be expected for one such as myself, I had entirely neglected to offer any kind of a sacrifice to the almighty god of transportation, and thus the road has led me here  - to a small community-college campus. Unfortunately, and it seems karmically, the very same I had failed tosucceed in before. Or is that succeeded to fail? It's all in the intent, I suppose. Of course I decide to go in, and much like before I discover that things have changed since my last visit. I come across a sign in my aimless exploration, avoiding eyecontact with others:

Speed Dating
wed. Oc. 11 @ 6pm in the Connection Cafe
Single? Want
some Friends?
Come meet a
mate....or maybe
Just a friend.
This is blind
dating at it's
best!

Scanning over the grammatically disturbing flyer, I think to myself and anyone in earshot," I could attend that. But then, that would serve only as a display for how apt I truely have become at the treasured skill of social-ineptitude." Naturally I do as the newrby vending machine commands my presumably idle and further presumably empty mind to do, and parting with $1.25, I purchase an "Ice-cold Coca-Cola." Of course contaning neither coca leaf norkola nut in any form, and being kept at a chilly, yet ice-free 37 degrees F. Furthering my exploration of truth in adertizing, I proceed to a second vending machine for a 1 3/4oz. bag of "Blazin' Buffalo & Ranch" Doritos. Oh FritoLay, you've never led mewrongly have you? Alas, the contents of the bag, while delicious, are nothing similar to the traditional wheel-shaped cheese snack of latin american root. I sit in the stairwell with my bottle and bag, each filled with equally delicious deciet, and occasionally apologize for my being seated decidedly in the way of any would-be passers-by