"Benjamen?" Don't open that door. "Are you awake?" For all you know, I am not. "I need to head out for a bit to do some shopping." Good for you, better get to that then. "I was curious if you would like to join me?" Such wasted curiosity. I would not. "I would certainly enjoy having some company on my errands today." Call somebody then. "Your help would be greatly appreciated too."

The word "help" brought a groan from my throat as the sentiment stung me this morning. It appeared as though this was my chance to aid Rarity in return, and seeing as I have been living off of her generosity for two days now, I owed her at least this small token of repayment to keep from being the worst houseguest in known history. That obligation did not help me fight off the dread I felt when my feet hit the floor, however, and through the entire task of finding and donning my clothes, I still questioned smothering myself back to sleep.

As one might be able to ascertain from the mental transcript I gave of my morning, I was still in a very poor mood when I woke up. I had made a fool of myself yesterday, and the shame still weighed me down in the bed throughout the night. A stupid white cat kept me awake all evening, repeatedly jumping at my feet to claw at them and then hiss and growl at me when it hunched up on the ground next to the bed. I never personally owned a pet back home in Keycrescents, and seeing that most of the wildlife I have encountered since the beginning of my trip hates me, perhaps it was for the best.

The best way to describe today overall is that it was a trial. A trial of my patience, a trial of my humility, and mostly, a trial of my sanity. How could something as simple as a shopping trip bring about such hardships? Dragons. I was shocked by that answer as well.

Indeed I did meet a dragon today, or a creature that at least claims to be one. When I had finally readied myself: Fixed my hair to its relative carelessly thrown-together scruffy look and given my reflection in the mirror a confidence speech while shirtless (my definitionless chest and stomach reflected back at me made this a pointless gesture), Rarity and I stepped out of the boutique to begin running the errands she had planned to take care of today. On our way out, and only halfway down the walkway that connects to the street, a peculiar purple creature huffed and heaved for breath as it sprinted on short legs towards the two of us. While I stared on in what I think to be reasonable disbelief, Rarity only smiled and asked if I would wait a moment once we reached the street to let the purple lizard approach us.

"I'm here! I made it! Am I late? Twilight's letter this morning was a doozy, I thought she'd never let me stop writing!" The creature wheezed a few times as it grasped for its knees to catch its breath. One of my brows had involuntarily drawn up and refused to come down as I could not seem to understand what I was looking at. A talking purple lizard? I'm already hard-pressed enough to accept that these horses speak, but this was now asking too much of my suspension of disbelief.

"So you ran all the way here just to try to make it on time? How sweet of you, but I happened to have somepony available to help me today. It would have been alright for you to miss a single trip with me," Rarity cooed, motioning with a tilt of her head in my direction.

"Somepony else? Who could... ,” the creature's sentence was cut short as he finally looked up to spot me, the green-colored eyes widening as he had to crane his neck back to see my face.

"This is Benjamen. Has Twilight not said anything to you about him? Ben, this is Spike, Twilight's dragon assistant," Rarity introduced.

"That thing's a dragon?" That was all I could think to say, as I was fairly unimpressed by the reptile. I had always imagined dragons to be giant, fierce, and noble creatures. This was little more than a bumbling, scrawny, garden-variety lizard that learned to walk on two legs.

"The human thing? She said something about him a couple of days ago, but I thought it was just another constellation or something! He's taking my place?" Spike responded as he looked between us both unhappily.

"Just this week. I was not sure if you'd show up and he was gracious enough to offer to come along."

I did? She must have a very liberal definition of "offer".

Spike did not seem to take this news well, even after she had informed him that it would be alright for him to accompany us if he wished. When we began further up the road towards the center of the village, he spoke up about me. "You're really going to let that thing carry your stuff? He might drop 'em, and at his height they'd break for sure!" Funny, I'm only tall enough to stand eye-level with these ponies when they are at rest. Its not my fault this skink only comes up to my hip.

"Am I really being berated by a talking gecko?" I questioned back incredulously, but was ignored as Spike continued his arguments against me.

"I'm not trying to diss the new guy here, but you seriously might want to rethink giving all your stuff to a huge monkey."

"Spike!” Rarity erupted at him, "I'm shocked! How could you say such a thing? I know your worry is in good nature, but you're being rude. He'll do just fine, I'm certain of it. Now let's have no more of that talk and just enjoy our outing." I suppose one of us had to be hopeful, since I was busy brooding over the insults and being woken up early, and the lizard grumbled with scorn, it would have to be her. Rarity ushered us onward, ready to begin her errands.

The first stop was for groceries. I was quite surprised when I was not handed a basket and asked to go foraging for berries and fruits like the savages (I should probably be ashamed) that I keep mistaking these creatures to be. I was instead lead to a cobblestone street closer to the center of their hamlet that was lined with dozens of stalls and carts. These small structures were overflowing with produce and goods of various kinds. Multitudes of ponies crowded around some, while other calmer stalls had one or two currently in the midst of bartering with the owners of these vending stands. My attention was pulled away from the sights as I felt something pressed into my hand: A few golden coins from Rarity.

"What's wrong? You look so shocked," Rarity questioned as she looked up from the coins in my hand.

"I was expecting a watering hole with a lookout watching for coyotes," I commented and cleared my throat when the only response I got was a puzzled stare. "What are these for?"

As Rarity turned to give Spike a few coins as well, she warmly informed me, "To get you some grocery items, of course. You have not had the chance to do so since you arrived, have you?"

Truly the only meals I had been getting by on were the ones that others were gracious enough to offer me. The thought of it woke up the sensation of pangs in my stomach where it felt uncomfortably empty. The only thing more unsettling to me than this feeling was the intense weight of guilt that rested on my shoulders when I looked at the coins. "I don't know if I'm comfortable accepting this."

"Well I certainly don't know what humans eat or what you like. It's fine, really. It will save me the effort of guesswork."

"No" was once again not an option for me to give. With a submissive nod, I tried to exhale away the weighty sensation of wrongdoing and left her to begin perusing the stalls. I was not alone, however, as I heard the young voice of the reptile that shadowed me once we were away from Rarity's sight. "So what are you really supposed to be?" he asked me skeptically as he strode at my side with a scowl. I explained, once again, that I was a human from the city of Keycrescents which was an indeterminable distance away from Ponyville. "I meant with her, with Rarity. I mean, sleeping in her home, eating her food, she's making your clothes, you're taking her money... good pen pals?"

"More like a freeloader," I regretfully admitted, feeling the coins in my hand seem to get denser. "No relation to her. I've only known her a few days now; she's just been very helpful towards me."

"Rarity probably feels sorry for you," he spouted off quickly, his lip bit beneath a snaggletooth afterwards while he let his brow come up from its scowl. "Well, she's just being nice. Don't get any ideas about taking advantage of that. A great pony like her doesn't need somepony wringing her dry with a sob story about how lost and scared they are."

"You know, back in Keycrescents snakeskin boots are very popular." When I spat those words out in response, our eyes met in a glare. That was enough, I had thought, and my mood was not improving any as I was being inquisitioned and accused by a pigmentally-challenged iguana. He let me be at that time, allowing me to finally speak to some of the stall owners.

Speak is a term that I should use very lightly. Quite a bit of what I truly did was peruse the contents of stalls while the owners of them stared at me with either scorn or fear and tell me to take my hands away when I would reach to examine something or bring up a point about it. The other ponies near stalls moved away like liquid when I would approach a new stand. I am one who does enjoy my personal space, but the intense effort made by these ponies to avoid it left me feeling rather alienated. I also felt extremely ignorant because I had no idea what the value of one of these coins was when I finally did find the one stall where the owner did not seem terrified or distrustful of me. He was selling strawberries, and after one look at me, he informed me, "Five bits."

"I just saw a pony walk away from here after placing two coins down. Is that not two bits?" I asked.

"That was then. This is now. Five bits."

"For a basket?"

"For one strawberry."

"That's unreasonable."

"It's economics. Demand went up."

"Maybe I don't want to pay that much."

"Then don't and stop holding up the line."

Eventually I surrendered the idea of doing as she had asked me to. I returned the bits to Rarity and simply informed her that I just was not comfortable bartering with something when I did not know its value. At least she accepted that answer and did not require me to admit more.

The next stop was at a florist's shop. When I asked what she might be buying there, I received the answer, "Flowers, what else?" with a chuckle. The response she gave me when I reworded my question as to what she would need at a florist's shop for the upcoming week was not much better. "Must everything one does have a need? I would like to see the flowers, so that's why we're here." I have never been one to understand what exactly the definition of shopping is, but it must vary wildly from my own crazy concept of it meaning going to purchase necessities for oneself.

The store was very presentable. A couple of ponies, the proprietors, busily watered and cared for the plants even after the three of us entered. Roses, tulips, daisies, lilies, daffodils, bluebells, and so many other kinds of flora that it was mind boggling to me, sat on dark shelves positioned beneath a skylight or close to the many windows of the establishment. I was personally intrigued by the roses, seeing that they had so many colors ranging across the entire spectrum. I have only seen yellow, red, and white roses back home unless they had been specially treated with dyes to force them to become exotic colors. The shopkeepers seemed to pay me no mind, well, up until I had a mishap with an insect. A large white and black hornet was buzzing around the shop, and when it got close to me I panicked. With an audible whack, I slapped the little monster out of the air and to the ground which brought on a gasp from all of the ponies in the store. Even after I had apologized and claimed it was merely in self-defense, they told me I had to wait outside. As Spike laughed at me on my way out, I "accidentally" bumped his stomach with my boot. They sent him out of the building too when he coughed up flames near the posies.

"Murderer," he called me broodfully as we both sat outside to await Rarity finishing her tour of the flora.

"Blowtorch," I spat back.

"Monkey."

"Anguine."

"What did you call me?"

"Ignorant."

Perhaps 10 minutes of unavoidable coexistence passed before Rarity finally made her exit from the florist's shop and asked if we were now ready to behave and try again at another store. With compliant nods, both of us stood up to accompany her. I had to ask her why she left the shop without buying anything. She simply asked me why she was expected to buy something when all she did was enter a store. It still makes no sense to me, but to preserve my sanity and keep from imparting my frustration on someone who has been so kind to me, I am trying to make myself believe it is local custom or a female ritual.

The next stop on her list was a perfume store. The words “Perfume Shop” have been a point of much thought for me today, but mostly in that I have been trying to think of a clever acronym for what I believe it truly is. I have not been successful, but I am thoroughly convinced that it is indeed a pseudonym for what should be honestly labeled as “Fragrance-based Weapons Testing Facility.” That is all I can imagine this place truly being considering how many times I was assaulted and suffocated with various scents then questioned on how I felt about them. Rather pissed – but such is an answer I was hesitant to give due to how these ponies continue to eye me with skepticism and distrust the entire time I am within their establishments. There was even a pair of ponies I heard speaking about me as the three of us passed, questioning why Rarity had the beast lugging her groceries behind her, said with some insensitive giggles at my expense. I expected my skin to be thicker than this when poked fun of by brightly-colored talking livestock, but regrettably it did leave me feeling somewhat insecure in myself. Our trip through this store as well was a disaster for me overall.

Spike had busied himself by acting as the best little assistant that one could imagine, going off on independent searches for scents whose names were more suited to culinary works or questionable independent film titles than marketed fragrances, toting them back one-by-one to Rarity, then putting a small bit on his scales and asking if she thought she might be interested in it for herself. He also was considerate enough to ask my opinion on each scent as well, insisting on blasting me in the face with spurt after spurt of the perfumes to ensure I got the full effect of the aroma. By "considerate", I mean he was being a little shit .

“Tell me, Benjamen, what do you think of this one?” Rarity finally asked me while we stood in the aisle between the Fields of Spring section and the Seaside Scents corner.

“Do you know how with paint when you mix too many colors together you get brown? I smell like brown. Please don’t spray me again,” I requested irritably of her.

“Please? I could really use a stallion’s opinion on what smells best,” she requested once more, setting the bottle down in front of me to show she was willing to skip spraying me with it.

“I think perhaps this all is a little unnecessary. Is there something wrong with the perfume you own? I mean, why not buy more of whatever you’re wearing right now? It smells nice, I like that one.”

Moments of silence passed between us as I witnessed a very light pink begin to burn through the fine white fur on her cheeks and face from her skin beneath; a peculiar smile tugging at her lips as she turned her eyes away from me. After a clearing of her throat, she quietly informed me, “I am not wearing any. I discovered I was out today, thus why we’re here.”

I excused myself afterwards and decided to step outside to try to keep others from realizing just how flushed my own face had become. I could feel the blood rushing to it and the skin radiate heat, so I can only guess I was between the shades of tomato and prized sports car. Spike had eyed me warily on my hasty retreat from the shop, but I did not hear him if he had a smart remark for me this time. I just felt the need to vacate and begin the subtle process of convincing myself that what I had said was merely my impatience and not truth. The whole scenario is just awkward and uncomfortable.

The last stop our group made together was a beauty supply store. I have never personally entered one of these types of shops back in Keycrescents, but the name seemed fitting as it struck me as being a haven and place of worship to the great practice of cosmetology. My attempt at being as quiet and out-of-sight as possible in this establishment was successful for the most part while Rarity busied herself looking for mascara, or eye shadow, or something. I am not well versed enough in makeup to know what she was looking for exactly. I had scurried off to hair-care products just to keep myself out of the way. Even when I do absolutely nothing at all though, I am a magnet for trouble.

I honestly am not sure what exactly happened. From one side of me came the sound of a loud squirt that caused me to jump and slam myself up close to a shelf. Before I could find the cause, a scream erupted from the opposite side, down near the makeup. Shooting my sight that way, I saw the makings of a powder-room horror story. On the side of Rarity closest to me, large blotches of black ink dripped down her pelt, the sight of which brought another shriek of terror from her. A quiet “Uh oh” sounded as something skittered away and left me standing alone in the aisle as attendants came rushing to see the damage.

Hair dye. Fur dye perhaps? Either way, it was black dye that had somehow shot across the room and splattered across her pristine ivory pelt in large and unflattering splotches. I could barely understand her through the quivering in her voice as she witnessed the cosmetic carnage that had befallen her and raised her tone at the attendants to quickly do something before it set in. As they began to look to one another in panic at the situation, I pondered exactly what all the fuss was about. Sure, it was not a pretty sight, but beauty is indeed only skin deep (or fur deep, in this case). “Rarity, it’s alright. Calm down, there’s no need to shout. It’s not the end of the world. Besides, I always thought bovine-print spots were really cute.” That was not the right thing to say, as she immediately broke into tears at my insinuation: “I look like a cow!” she blubbered back, barely intelligible. The other ponies gave me a dirty glance at my insensitivity, and with a sigh, I just grabbed a bottle of anti-dandruff shampoo from the shelf and stepped over. “Get me some baking soda, we can fix this.” As though I had spoken gibberish at them, I had to repeat myself twice before any of the attendants brought me the baking soda as I requested. When it finally arrived, I tried making a quick mixture in my hands and asked the aesthetically-wounded to sit still so I could try to get it out. The mixture did as I had hoped and lifted enough of the color that the ink only left a pale purple hue to her fur – this did very little to console her.

“This isn’t fair! Who could have done such a thing?” Rarity asked me through tears in her eyes, heaving for breath after her inconsolable shrieks when she looked at the spots left on her hide. “What am I going to do? I look like a wreck!”

“You’re making a huge deal out of nothing,” I tried once again. “How about we just go get some bleach and lift the color back to blonde or white. Then it will be light enough that it can grow back out to its normal color.” With a forced smile she nodded and asked me to please stay close as she wanted to go to the department store to get the bleach we would need. The beauty store charged us for the dye and shampoo on the way out despite being the victim of the mishap. Peculiarly, Spike was nowhere to be seen now (good riddance).

Finally it seemed that my own plight came to a head as we approached the door of the small store that had some kind of cute “save-a-lot” kind of name (bits-o-bits?). There was a greeter at the door, wearing a green vest uniform around its chest and neck, who smiled at Rarity but did a double-take and stopped us both when I attempted to stride in behind her. “Sorry ma’am, but I’m afraid that, uh, pets need to stay outside the door.”

“What?” Rarity asked as she felt she must have misheard him, and she began to listen to him retell the instructions. I myself was distracted by the sound of another patron’s comment:

“Gorilla has to stay outside, but they’ll let the cow in?”

Perhaps she did have a point with how upset she was over the dye incident. The same sensation I felt when looking at the coins came over me as I shook my head at the phrase, and before she began arguing with the doorman about how he referred to me, I gathered her attention. “Rarity, I’m just going to head back to the boutique. Just bring the bleach back, and I’ll be ready to help you out. I feel like I’m just… well, embarrassing you now.”

Something about my words set her off. With a whip of her body she turned from me to view both the greeter and the patrons nearby to spout off loudly towards them. “What is wrong with all of you!?” I watched her stamp her hoof down with shocking force, which I instinctually stepped back from. “I am ashamed. Not of my spots, and not of him, but of all of you! How dare you? A monster? A pet? A monkey? I asked him to come with me this morning and he came out of kindness; he has been nothing but a gentlecolt this entire time, despite it all, but what does he get? He gets treated like dirt and like an animal!” Rarity spun around with her head held high, looking for my sight and shaking her head sternly to me. “No, Ben, I won’t send you back to the boutique alone. I’m coming with you. I refuse to be in such company. They can keep their bleach for all I care.” Before I could raise a word against the statement, she was already marching past me with her head still proudly raised, motioning for me to follow. Her exit was interrupted when another pony stood in her way.

Having just entered through the door, there stood a light tan-colored pony with a grey and white striped mane and tail right in the way of Rarity’s path. With a puzzled and concerned look, she shuffled to remain in the path of the indignant Rarity, despite my companion’s insistence to step by without a word. “Pardon me,” started the mare in a voice that led me to believe she was notably older than most of others I had met, “Is something the matter here?”

“No, Mayor Mare, my friend and I were just leaving. There will be no problem.”

At the term friend, the mayor craned her view to me curiously. Her own eyes opened wide with shock at the sight of me, though I was still toting bags of groceries at my sides and my shoulders were slumped to bring me a bit lower than her own height. “Oh, I had just heard that there was an issue that I needed to see to myself. It involved a,” moments passed as she scanned me, selecting her words carefully, “new arrival. Is this the friend you’re speaking of, Miss Rarity?”

“He is,” she said with a certain nod. “His name is Benjamen and he is staying in Ponyville while he gets adjusted.”

The mayor nodded slowly at the answer, eyes glancing between the patrons of the store, Rarity, and myself. I could see the wheels turning in her mind as she had to consider what to do, biting at her bottom lip and her breath hastening a bit at the question. A lot of eyes fell on her right now and waited for an answer. With a step forward while her muscles quivered very slightly in fear, she bravely approached me as I set down the bags respectfully. One of her hooves rose up and was offered out to me, still shaking despite the hopeful smile that lit up her face. I assumed she was looking for a shake, which I reciprocated for her and caused her to exhale in relief as her stance calmed at my gentle touch. “Welcome to Ponyville then, Benjamen. I do hope you enjoy your stay, and if you find yourself in need of anything, please feel free to visit my office. It’s always a pleasure to have a guest in our wonderful little town.”

I am being called again for the second round of bleaching Rarity’s pelt. The color is almost completely lifted (now a soft orange tint). Hopefully with this last treatment we can get it to blonde so nobody will notice it until her fur can grow out again. I will hurry the rest of this entry. After my meeting with the mayor, I immediately witnessed a very new demeanor in the ponies I encountered today. Smiles, hoofshakes, pats on the shoulder, and other unwelcome but tolerable gestures were directed towards me. At least I can safely say I prefer it to being feared and scorned. It was a trial, but at least it led to something worthwhile. As is the saying: All things worth having are worth fighting for, or in my case, being mistreated and embarrassed for.