the F bomb exploded

so i just lost my sunglasses. these super cute paul frank ones my cousin bought me... Realizing their disappearance I dug my head into my backpack and my arms desperately searched all corners. When my hands failed to locate the shades I figured I dropped them somewhere. Out of frustration I began to softly yell, "F*** F*** F*** F*** F*** " under my breath. Okay, it wasn't so softly. The second I raised my head out of the bag, my eyes met a pair of green brown eyes rimmed by nerdy eye glasses. Not only was he a white man in a remote alley way in Pusan, but he was a white monk dressed in the traditional gray friar costume, from bald head to toe. I felt so shameful! I walked a few steps away, hoping that he didn't speak English. Although, I imagine even children in remote villages of Uzbekistan would know that f*** is a bad word. I slowly turned my neck towards him to scope if he was looking at me. And oh yes he was. He in fact turned his body around from his initial direction to observe me - this random Korean girl who just had a 5 F-word outburst.

I then thought how easier life would be without earthly desires. And that I need to work on potty mouth control.