Just to be, and be nothing else

The girl with brown eyes, clear and steady, wandered around her room. She was looking for jeans to wear as she tossed around a couple piles of clothes, but she couldn't find any that were clean. All her pants needed laundering. They were at that point where the material gets all stretched out and it feels too unfit to be worn. So turning to her closet, she slowly went through all the hangers. Sweater, pass, it's too hot. Clean white collared shirt, pass, too formal. Shiny green dress from her mother's wedding, pass, too girly and formal, again. It's usually the formal clothes that go on hangers in the closet. You know, so they don't get wrinkly and all. The rest can just be folded on top of each other in a simple drawer. Finally, she stopped at a simple cotton cream colored dress. It was loose fitting and had a bit of subtle crocheting on the front of it, for style she supposed, perfect. It's right for the weather, I don't have pants to wear, why not she thought.

As she was exiting her house, brown-eyed girl slipped on her backpack and some flats. No, she wasn't going to school, just merely meeting a friend and taking a trip to the coffee shop, then perhaps later on to the book store. The backpack to her was more like a "purse" and not really a thing to carry heavy textbooks around. It's easy to move around with a backpack, purses around your shoulders can get a bit in the way if you feel a bit in the mood for running. Walking to the rendezvous bus stop, the girl saw that her friend had already arrived, quite on time. His messy brown hair barely brushed the middle of his forehead, it was neither to long nor too short. Hey, he greeted her. Sup, she replied. She sat down next to him and placed her elbow on his shoulder.

"It's been awhile hasn't it?" she said.

"Yep," he replied.

"What have you been up to?"

"Oh the usual, just reading books and whatever comes along."

Jack Kerouac, she thought to herself, with no real connection to what her friend had just said. I wonder how it would have felt like to be "on the road" with him. She wondered what kind of conversations they might have had if she ever perchance met him, or met with anyone who was willing to make that kind of trek and with that sort of mentality in general. Then she glanced down at herself and felt the looseness of her attire.

"Do you think my dress is too girly?" she asked.

"Not really," he said. "It looks good on you."

"Sometimes, I wish I wasn't a woman," she said, taking her elbow off his shoulder and crossing her arms. "I wish I could just have a nice random conversation with a man, you know, have a cool man to man talk. I wouldn't have to worry if he was quietly noticing my legs, or breasts, or hair. Or even think if he would be thinking "this girl's pretty cute." But I guess it's not like I don't like being a woman. It's nice, I guess. I actually like being a woman very much. I mean, I guess if I was a guy talking to a decent looking girl, I would be quietly noticing her legs, breasts and hair too, right? And that would also be troublesome I suppose."

"Well," he chuckled. "It's not like all guys stare at girls' legs and breasts all the time when we talk to them. We do know how to just be friends with girls you know. Not all of us just want sex."


"I know, I know. That's not what I meant," She laughed. "Besides, I said quietly watching. Which means, whether you like it or not, you're subconsciously noticing those things. I didn't say that men blatantly stare at women like that. Well, some do, perhaps most? Perhaps it's the few who don't really care as to if a girl is pretty or not? Well, it doesn't really matter to me, because I don't really care."

Just then, the bus arrived and they boarded it with all the others.




Hours later, brown-eyed girl and brown-hair boy walked through the almost empty streets. It was light out with the illumination of the lamp posts, other than that it was pretty apparent that it was late in the evening. Waiting for the bus to arrive again, they were situated near a small bar. A young middle-aged man with some facial hair was standing outside having a cigarette. He was drunk, you could tell. It wasn't the bad kind of drunk where one gets himself into a lot of trouble. But drunk enough to where he walked up to the pair and introduced himself.

"Hello there," he stated.

"Hi," said the boy.

"Hello," said the girl.

"How would you like to come in and have a few drinks?"

"Ah, I'm sorry sir, but we're underage," said the boy in a friendly voice.

It was almost as if the pair was babying him. Smelling the beer on his body and understanding the drunk state that he was in. They knew what alcohol did to people, in a personal sense. The man wasn't aggressive or anything of that sort, just in a sociable mood. So instead of being rude and turning the drunk man away like most people would have, the young boy continued on having a conversation. The young girl just sort of stood there smiling in sincerity, aware of the fact that she was a girl in a dress standing in front of a drunk man. She knew that he would do absolutely no harm to her, but she was still aware. It's something girls have to grow up with, being cautions of lecherous men. Boys don't usually have to deal with that problem as much as girls, seeing as boys are the one looked to as being capable of such lecherous acts and girls being the victims, for the most part. But not all is true, and both boys and girls are not always completely safe from the lechery in this world.

Soon enough, after his cigarette had gotten down to its filter, the middle-aged man decided to go back to the bar and said his goodbyes. The young boy and drunk man did not talk too extensively about anything important. Just usual small talk. The young girl said a few words. But for the most part was not quite included in conversation.

"See, like that," she said after the drunk man returned to the bar.

"Huh?" he replied taking out a box of cigarettes, taking out two.

"You know, the entire time it was just a conversation between the two of you," she said taking the cigarette and lighting it after the boy lit his own.

"Really? I didn't notice. But I think I see what you mean," he said blowing out smoke.

"Yeah, well it was probably my fault anyway. For being so aware of the fact that I'm a woman," she chuckled. "I shouldn't be thinking like this. It's ludicrous. It's not like you guys were having an amazingly interesting conversation anyway."

"I guess," he shrugged.

"Do you want to sit down?" she asked as began to sit down crossing her legs indian style.

"Sure," he replied.

"Oh well...I think I'm just thinking too much," she continued. "Even if it'd be "easier" for me to have a "man on man" conversation with a guy if I were a guy, who's to say I can't have a conversation just as filling if I were a woman?"

"Yep, now that's the way to think," he assured her.



After waiting awhile for the bus that didn't come. The pair decided to just get up and walk home, only about a mile or two away. Brown-eyed girl and Brown-hair boy walked home side by side, talking until the moment they departed at the fork which led them to different places.