My Bitchcraft is Strong

So the other day I go into this Quiznos that I used to work at, and I lock eyes with the manager. I squint knowingly, with a little quirk of my mouth. She gets flustered and immediately takes her 15 minute break. I do this to her about once a month, because she fired me last summer, didn’t even tell me why. So now I like to come into her shop and stare her down for a moment before I go to order. Just so she knows that I know that she knows that I know that she knows.

A couple weeks ago, a friend of mine who happens to be a reasonably successful author (name withheld because I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to use my friend’s fame to make myself look cooler) came to Portland to do a reading at a local bookshop. In the audience is Ryan (name not withheld because fuck that guy), a guy I used to game with who got suddenly weird and distanced himself from me after I told him I was trans. Ryan, of course, sits down right in front of me and blocks my view for the whole reading. I recalled that Ryan is a huge fan of [author], and sure enough after the reading is done and everyone lines up to get their copy sign, Ryan is there at the end of the line with a huge stack of books he can barely carry in both arms. I go to the cafe with the author’s wife, who is also a friend of mine and who I’ll call Beartrap, and we have a drink while we wait for the signing to be done. When we get back to the reading room, the line is almost done, except for Ryan. Beartrap mentions she’d quite like to go get drunk. I go over to [author] and relay the message, and I can’t quite resist being obvious about it enough to make sure that Ryan sees me speaking casually and familiarly with [author]. And then I look at him just long enough to make sure that he knows that I know that he knows that I know.

My bitchcraft is strong.

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5 thoughts on “My Bitchcraft is Strong

  1. It pleases me greatly that you are quite obviously a discerning user of said bitchcraft. It’s an art… a craft, and like any artisan, whether she’s learning to mimic the oil paintings of Michelangelo Merisi or mastering the methods of forging iron into horseshoes, any good bitch worth her salts must represent well the fine skills of weilding her power with both finess and marksmen-esque accuracy.

    • I’ve only performed a few minor workings. I mostly rely on targets of opportunity. To get past the apprentice level, I’ll need to learn to create my own opportunities.

  2. Pingback: Damaged Goods | Destination Girl

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