Self Discovery

"No, I'm not interested! Now fuck off!" The sound of a phone slamming back into its receiver reverberates through your headset, threatening to deafen you. Well that was rude. And who the hell still uses an old school phone like that? You wonder to yourself as you cross that number off the sheet in front of you. You sigh and rub your eyes. That had been the eighth hangup in a row. Today just wasn't your day apparently.

My life sucks. You can't keep the thought out of your head. And if there was a deity looking down on you, they would have to agree. Your name is Troy and you are a twenty-two year old university graduate. With a degree in creative writing. Super useful. Turns out being a writer is harder than you thought. So to make any money you had to take the only job you could get: a soul sucking telemarketing job selling crap no one wants to morons.

At least I look good, right? That unseeing deity would probably shake their head ruefully at your self deprecating thought. You aren't exactly a specimen of masculine perfection. Standing at a grand total of 5'6" and weighing a mere 50 kilograms, you lack muscle or bulk. Instead you're soft and, in your most private thoughts, curvy in all the wrong places for a man. Needless to say it hasn't done wonders for your self esteem or confidence.

Which is why all the ladies love me. Given your lack of funds, lack of looks, lack of confidence and overall shyness, it's no wonder you're single. At least you've had sex, once in your life. And that was over a year ago.

Snap out of it Troy, get it together. With a mental heave, you shake off that depressing train of thought, smile and look up.