she despised most men. she would always cross the street, not only to avoid the obvious danger, but to ensure she did not catch a whiff of odor. she never wanted to see their grossly sharp jaws or razor cutting, giant noses with untouched, bushy brows. everything about men, to yumi, was frankly disgusting. the only kinds she trusted were the ones that never chased her.
the same guy, over and over, walked past her. he was not like that other, gross, tattoo-ed bartender bully, he was almost nerdy. he looked far too soft to actually be any kind of creep or weirdo. he looked, well, to yumi, the way all men should look. he seemed clean and kind. he never looked where he should not look, he never touched anything he should not touch. he was. . . normal, and yumi liked that.
she made her self comfortable near him, just wanting to know his name and why he never said anything creepy or weird to her. of course, she would not tell him that, rather, she wanted to know what made him such a decent human being through his actions. his awkward cookie-exchange was the first sign.
oh, you’re not respectful of women, you’re just awkward around us.
“you thought it would be nice?” she had her hands folded under her chest. she tilted her head. “then why didn’t you give them to me earlier, ya’ silly.”
she reached out, gingerly, and took them, only to set them right beside her. all her attention was on this new potential friend.
“so, where ya’ from? it seems like everyone in this town- oh, i’m new here, if my. . . uh, attire didn’t make it obvious,” she gestured to her bathing suit under a white coverup, “but, uh, everyone here is, like, totally a native, right? does anyone ever even vacation here? it’s totally the perfect spot!”