Applesauce

I love my job at the Pet Store, except for one thing: I hate my customers. It's not an evil I wish they were dead sort of hate, it's an Oh Celestia I wish I didn't have to deal with them sort of hate. Every time I have to interact with one of my customers I can't help but to make everything awkward. I make jokes to break the ice (terrible ones), I sweat uncontrollably, I don't take criticism very well, and above all:

I don't flirt.

My job is not a speed dating session, it is work. I don't feel like sharing interests with other ponies just so they can try and get me into their bed if our personalities seem compatible. Why does every conversation with certain ponies somehow leave them expecting you to have sex with them? It makes me cringe, some ponies are more disgustingly direct with their advances that it makes me want to hurl.

I don't like ponies touching me. How much more so would I not like us touching and rubbing up against each other, not to mention inserting ourselves together like a worm penetrating an apple. I don't even know how to find where the vagina is on certain mares. Sure, I've masturbated by myself but it's mostly just to relieve stress. I've seen stallions, they're all meh. I've seen mares, they're all meh. True love is caring about another pony, if you care about me enough then you should be fine with us being just friends.

Sometimes other ponies ask me: "What gets you off?" And I always give them the same direct answer. "My hooves." Then they stare at me as if I was joking, then ask the next question, which is almost always: "So... you're in love with your hooves? Do you have a hoof fetish?" I shake my head, and then if they're persistent enough, they'll ask the next question. "What team do you play for?" After pausing a bit, I answer. "I don't play those kind of sports."

I love how ponies look at you creepily because you're not having sex. Why is being a virgin so bad? I am not going to lose my virginity just for the sake of it. I treasure the fact that I have never exchanged bodily fluids with another pony in that way. Sure, I make friends, but eventually they try and set you up with somepony else, or themselves.

I need a vacation

I can go someplace else, pretend to make friends and then when they try to fuck me I can leave and never see them again. Sure, it's cruel but it's necessary. It's necessary to preserve my sanity. I've taken other types of vacations, vacations from my mind. I take a lot of anxiety pills, and allergy medicine, and sometimes cheese puffs. CHEESE PUFFS ARE MY MEDICINE DEAL WITH IT! Surely, I haven't been prescribed Cheese Puffs, but I take them over the counter. Or in supermarket terms, from the potato chip aisle

"Oh? So you take food from supermarkets? You're not on such moral high ground." I bet somepony would say. "No! I pay for them!" I would shout, or want to, because I usually lower my voice when I'm being criticized. So... I could vacation from myself, take a little extra anxiety pills and go to sleep for 15 hours. But. I need to get out and do something... If I was with my parents that's what they'd say. "Go out and do something!" Then I'd complain to myself and sit on the back porch for five minutes and then come inside.

Nothing's changed since then. I try to tell myself I'm not a conservative, but I've feared change ever since I was a foal. I never change my order, I never change my mind, I'm a stubborn mule. Well I can leave Ponyville without anypony telling me to! Just watch me! So, I pack my things; I pack light because I don't plan to stay there long. Pick a simple conservative destination... Shut up. Appleloosa. I can go there, catch a rodeo, drink my weight in cider and then leave. That's vacation enough.

I slowly open the door to the outside, leaving my home and place of business. I quickly check if I have all of my suitcases, looks good, I'm pretty sure I have everything. I look around slowly to avoid walking on the street close enough that other ponies will start a conversation. I duck my head and run, I stumble a few times but thankfully I don't trip. I must be careful, if I trip somepony will talk to me and help me up. That's the last thing I want.

I slow down just for a moment, avoiding eye contact with other ponies like the plague. I gather my stuff so it won't fall over when I start running again. I dart my eyes quickly along the group, examining the hooves of other ponies. No, not in that way. I look carefully to make sure no hooves will be able to trip me once I sprint to the train station. Okay, I can do this. The train station is only a several hundred hoofsteps away at this point.

I dash towards the train station, still keeping an eye on the fleeting hooves of other ponies. I stop, gasping for breath. Crap I hope nopony saw me... I check the watch on my forehoof and start trotting away again as soon as I catch my breath. The only pony I should be talking to is the pony I'll be handing my ticket to. I come to a halt as I arrive at the ticket booth. I give an awkward smile to defer conversation as I hand the gray stallion my ticket.

"Where are you headed?" He asks. Really? I think to myself. It says it right on the ticket.

"Appleloosa." I grumble. One pony isn't so bad. At least this will be short.

"Excited for the big rodeo?" He continues, much to my chagrin.

"You betcha." I say affirmatively. I then casually walk into the train to end the useless conversation. "Thank Celestia that's over..." I say to myself before sitting in the most unoccupied, dingy and disgusting booth I could find to deter any gossip ponies that would want to sit next to me and talk about horseshoes and love lives. Low and behold, a yellow stallion shows up and sits across from me. I stare out the window and pray that he doesn't start a conversation.

"Hi." He smiles. "Name's Braeburn."

Aw shit.