How come is it...

What is it about me that draws in the strange and bizarre children? I walk into a place and suddenly, there in front of me, is this small, clinging child. What is it about me? Is it because I look like the frickin Pilsbury Dough Boy? Is it because I look like Mama Cass? Is it because I smell like a puppy? (long story, don't ask)

I just don't understand this. I have such an antagonistic feeling toward children. I mean hell... think about it... they're short.

Think about this, folks... picture this scenario...

I walk into my usual coffee spot (Chuck's Restaurant in Long Beach, Washington... a kind of greesy spoon/coffee shop type place) looking very typical for me... 6'3" (cause I'm wearing shoes which have a two inch heel) 400 frickin pounds, red hair in a pony tail, dressed in jeans which actually fit well (surprise surprise, a fat chick in jeans that fit, amazing) black button-down and jean jacket with "Love is... MINE!" embroidered on the back (yes, I did the embroidery, and the spelling is still damned)...

Anyway... I walk in looking very much like a fat, wannabe biker who can't afford the leathers. And I've got that, "don't fuck with me" look on my face. (unlike the "Go ahead and try it, baby" look that I'm using on my pic.)

I walk in, trying to project this image of death and seclusion because I"ve been hurt enough in my life... hell, you don't think I've heard the many people snickering behind my back.... by the by, what makes you assholes think that just because I'm Fat I can't hear??????? *le sigh*

So, I'm projecting this image of tough, cast-iron-bitch-ossitude, and from the corner of the restaurant, in a high, shrill, little-girl voice (she's 7) I hear "CINDERELLA!!! It's Cinderella"

*rolls her eyes*

Now, I guarantee you, Cinderella never lived a day in her life where she was more than two ounces over weight. Secondly, Cinderella was blonde. Thirdly, Cinderella actually MET and fell in love with and was LOVED BY a Prince. Fourthly, I guaran-damn-tee ya Cinderella NEVER walked into Chuck's. (Neither did she drive an old, falling-apart 83 Caddilac Seville But she would have, cause the sound system Frickin rocks.)

Anyway, the point....

This little, joy-filled scream fills the front of the restaurant as soon as I enter. And yup, you guessed it, it was all for me. The SHORT little blonde haired girl runs up to me, face plants in my fat hip (the left, so at least she didn't hit the one that hurts) and squeezes me as tightly as she can. Which isn't very tight.

She has called me Cinderella since the first day we met. She's the daughter of Chuck and Rose who own Chuck's. (um, like, duh... imagine a place named Chuck's owned by a guy named Chuck)

Regardless... Here I am, trying my best to be stand-off-ish and aloof... the lone-wolf, cast-iron-bitch who can't ever be hurt by anybody, and this little girl comes up to me, hugging me tightly... my cover is blown. I've been found out. I'm soft in the middle. Like an oreo. Or maybe like a jelly doughnut.

(by the by, I hate jelly filled doughnuts. I like Cream Cheese Coisants and glazed Old Fashioned doughnuts. Send all gifts to TigreFatalis P. O. Box 684 -- Long Beach, Wa. 98631 *smirks*)

Regardless... I like this little girl, unfortunately, she's a child. And short. And has so much energy that I can't even begin to fathom where she stores it. But she likes me. And she calls me Cinderella. *rolls her eyes*

I'm not Cinderella, damn it.

I'm fat

I'm short tempered

I'm a red head

I'm 29

I'm.... I.... I...

Oh Fuck it all..... I'm a softy. I like kids. AS long as they don't irritate me too much. I am gentle and kind and loving and tender and a woman of such gentle and tender disposition that I find something good in every person who lives in this world.

I still don't bear any resemblance to Cinderella, but I'm not going to burst that sweet little girl's dreams. Hell, Cinderella became a Queen, and I AM Queen of the World... so I guess there's some resemblance after all.

Dunno exactly where I was gonna go with that to begin with but wherever it is I ended up, I had fun on the way... hope you enjoyed your sojourn into my psychotic mind tonight...

Love and kisses and all that other creamy good stuff.

Or, in the words of Christian Slater in "Kuffs"... "... and kisses on all your pink parts."

Tig