She's cute, tis a shame she would kill me

Money to name-$50
Assorted debts to name-$370

I got a second job working at the Wilson's Leather in Settler's Green, the town's main shopping plaza. Between Reebok and this new gig I should be able to get between forty to maybe even fifty hours a week. My rough calculations have me making around $11,000 a year now net. Roughly. As I've been mostly broke or mildly sick and/or dead for the bulk of my life that's like swimming in cash for me. Haza!
One annoying thing about summer, and something that happens a lot more at Reebok than it ever did at my old KB Toys job, is cute looking girls will come in. Part of my job description entails talking to them and once in a while when I do they'll smile back at me and sometimes act a bit shy.
When this does happen I find myself getting confused. I'm used to being ignored by people, the majority of them being girls, and someone paying attention to me and wanting to talk to me just completely throws me for a loop. It takes me a second or two to remember that I might actually be good looking and they could be getting flustered that an older, good looking guy is talking to them. Usually when this happens I tell them if they need help finding anything to ask then try to ignore them as much as possible.
I've gotten very good over the last two years training myself to think like a castrated choir boy and chatting or flirting with cute girls isn't going to help at all. The first nine months my slogan was Stay Miserable, Stay Alive, but after a while I just stopped caring about ever having any sort of love life. If I take anything for pain it's a couple Tylenol for headache or my leg. I'm quite proud of myself. It's been quite the feat of mental discipline.
For those of you in the studio audience who are confused I'll explain. When I was about fifteen I started noticing that getting...aroused made me feel like I had just been kicked in the groin. I always figured it was some sort of stomach muscle thing as most of the pain was in my lower stomach. Anyway, flash forward ten years when I somehow get a girlfriend. Private lady friend time leaves me writhing in complete agony for the next three hours even after taking two oxycodone. A visit to a specialist-apparently this sort of thing ain't normal, who knew?-tells me that I have calcium in my prostate and the inflammation from arousal doesn't agree with them and that's what's causing all the pain. They can't get the calcium out of soft tissue, if they could I wouldn't have needed mom's kidney. The usual treatment for this condition is Advil or Ibprofen, but since those hurt/kill kidney tissue I'm not allowed to take them. The kidney doctors explain that if I do take the Advil for pain and destroy my transplant they wouldn't give me another one as I'm doing it to myself this time. I was later told that if I did do this I'd probably be dead in six months.
The specialist explains this no win situation to me then shrugs. No really. He shrugs at me. He offers to give me Vicodin, which I take a for a couple months, but combined with my heart slowing blood pressure medication makes me feel like a fog headed zombie. I choose the less traveled path of abandoning all hopes of any sort of love life and training myself to never think of anything sexual. I've gotten very good at it. There are days when I wake up hurting though. I figure my body is doing things in my sleep that I have no control over. Friggin' subconscious....
Anyway, seeing cute girls smile and talk to me ticks me off. I'd like to tell them to leave me alone as I'd like to live to my next birthday without being doubled over in pain, but it would take to much to explain. It's easier just trying to ignore them.
I've decided to save up money for a new laptop before I get a PS3. I want to play Starcraft 2 and God of War 3 isn't going anywhere.