
Blue Nail Polish
A girl noticed the colors of my nails. It was ‘excessively blue’, she observed, utterly displeased as shown in her face. She did not elicit any reaction from me, I just remember clawing my fingers, seeing the glossy metallic blue paint, I smiled and purred “Roar!” more to my myself than to her. I never had a conversation with this girl before, and our short exchange was just to make me know that she dislike my nails. I was nonchalant, as long as I like it, her unsolicited opinion doesn’t matter.
***
Provoke
I was asked a question, I answered. Then someone spoke to me out of nowhere, her face was livid and she was shaking, in anger, perhaps. I just let her talk, but I also reason with her in her pauses to calm down. I think she was meaning to say that I am incompetent, just trying to ‘impress’ people, etcetera. All throughout I am poised and impassive, because I know she is trying to provoke me. Does she want me to get angry, to cry, to feel belittled in the middle of that busy place? If those are her intentions, then she failed. Confrontation is not my style, argument is not my cup of tea. I know that. So I gave her a poker face while I rebuttal. I noticed how the noise in the place got zapped, tension mounted. But I know that it was clear who between us was emotional and who was logical. Above all, what mattered is what I felt after that little scene. I felt good about myself because I refused to be ambushed, I did not back down.