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Milk Man Exceprt

Milk Man Exceprt

Why tonight of all nights? I can't take any more today. "Stop, a**hole! I have pepper spray!" Does yelling this phrase really work? From what I can see, the nearby pedestrians don't even bother to look over. Nice to know. 

The problem is, I do not own pepper spray, but I'm hoping whoever has a hold of me will let go in fear of getting sprayed by my invisible weapon.

"Is the pepper spray inside your phone or your empty water bottle?" he asks. That voice—I recognize his damn voice, so I drop my arms and release my nut-kicking stance that wouldn't have done much to the assumed perpetrator hiding behind my back. I'm slow to turn around, feeling less-than-eager to face the idiot who thought it would be smart to grab my arm while I'm alone on a city street.