Wednesday, 17 June 2015

The Girl Who Cried “Blind Raccoon"

A terrible place to open a coffee shop, is on the same street as a high school. 
On one street in particular, they built two. One end of it, there were rules, uniforms, gym class and text books. School. On the other end, stood a brand spank’n new Second Cup and their old Italian man, who made espresso’s and didn’t believe in Canadian coffee. 

Both establishments packed with kids, who were on the wrong end of the street. 

But when first period blows, and second is bullshit, and third period is taught by a colossal cunt...why would a girl want to be anywhere else?

“I’ll take one caramel latte” a girl said, as she scanned around for patrolling teachers. 

The word on the street was that teachers were beginning to search for kids to drag back to class. She had been warned about skipping and had recently returned from a school suspension. She was always late and was constantly written up for not wearing her uniform “properly.” 

The girl was a first class rebel with fire breathing parents. She was scolded from every direction and was so sick of it, that she vowed to turn a new leaf. 

She looked at the clock above the baristas head and was relieved to see she still had twenty minutes to spare before she was considered “late for class." On that day, the girl rewarded her punctuality with a caramel latte, and a spicy jamaican patty. 

As she made her way down the street, she could see something in the distance. She figured “the something” was just a dog, and nothing to worry about.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me” she said, realizing what she was up against.

There, in the middle of the day, blocking her only way into the building, was a big fat rampant city raccoon. 

With only thirteen minutes left to get to class, she knew she had to move quick. The girl didn’t agree that math class was worth getting her leg gnawed off by a rabid animal, but she could not be late! She’d be suspended having just returned from suspension. 

The girl threw her latte in the bush hoping the raccoon would:

a) be curious of the sound, go find it and get the fuck out of the way.

b) be scared of the noise, run away from it and get the fuck out of the way.

Throwing the latte did nothing, but waste a perfectly good caramel latte and notify the raccoon that someone was in front of him.

He froze.
He stood up on his hind legs and began to sniff.
Then... he began to hobble towards the girl, sniffing the whole way.

She took one step back, then another.
He took one step closer, then another.


He was coming for her. 
She ran.
He followed.
Still sniffing.

Finally, a teacher emerged from the school doors and began to coach the girl.

“Stay calm!”

The raccoon-girl chase lasted seven more minutes until someone yelled

“Throw the patty! Throw the patty!”

Turns out the raccoon wasn’t after the girl at all, it was the spicy jamaican patty he wanted. He couldn’t see a damn thing, and wasn’t intentionally blocking her entrance...he was just pissed off and hungry. We’ve all been there.

The teacher chimed in “Yes! Throw the patty! Throw the patty!”

“But this is my lunch! I can’t!”

“Throw the patty! Throw the patty!” Everyone continued to shout.

So she did. 
He followed the scent.
She got away.

The girl tried to explain why she was late but it made no difference. No one believed her and she was suspended from school. During her absence, it came out via the raccoon-coaching-teacher that the girl wasn’t lying and she witnessed the whole thing.

But by then... it didn’t matter.

There are days that I believe in this whole “Bi Polar” thing and there are days that I don’t. There are weeks that go by, that I think I should be locked away in a padded bell tower and the only person with the key is the doctor who swallowed it. Then there are months where I think I'm diagnosed with Awesome. Yup, a good 'ol case of Awesome. 

There are parts of me that believe that what happened to me happened, then there are parts that can’t. Whether or not I can wrap my pretty little head around everything, is irrelevant. The past doesn’t need my approval to have existed. 

The same way I don’t need a doctor to agree when I say “I’m not Bi Polar”
The same way I don’t need a school to agree when I say “I was chased by a blind raccoon.” 

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