seaslug

Spurred on and pressing buttons

What is it about the Laurel Mall on a Friday night that warrants four security guards and two cops? Surely it wasn't the young semi-goth walking down the hallway toward the public restrooms, humming the tune to the Mexican Hat Dance and beating the side of his head on the wall to keep time as he ambled? daDA daDA daDA *BASH* da dadada da daDA *BASH*

On a Friday night the Laurel Mall is filled with nothing but gaggles of teenagers. Loud and boisterous to be sure, and seemingly without the ability to close their mouths when they chew and breathe, but certainly not calling for squawking radios and scuffed heavy boots with crevasse deep treads. Flailing clipboards and long metal flashlights. Nervous defiant stares and empty swagger.

Have we grown so afraid of our own children?

The security guards could have been of more use in Lowe's Home Improvement. Some genius installed a public address system that allows customers needing assistance to just press a button. A recording plays, calling an employee to whatever department.

Naturally, the first thing that happened was kids started running through the entire store pressing every button and flicking every switch in the place. Every 15 seconds the NBC tri-tone would sound -- doo DOOO doo -- and then a trilling friendly female voice: "Paint department. Special assistance is needed in the paint department." doo DOOO doo "Ladders. Special assistance is needed in Ladders." doo DOOO doo "Millworks desk. Special assistance is needed at the millworks desk." Over and over and OVUH! And the voice was just so EFF-ing perky!! It was truly abusive.

doo DOOO doo, I thought to myself. These children! Special assistance is needed with these snot-nosed, ragged, wild haired, mouth breathing, Hot Topic wearing, drama producing, omg lol ttfn text messaging, children, Cap'n!!!

Of course, I wasn't really the brightest bulb on the Xmas tree either when I was a wee mollusc. In seventh grade my friend Thomas Albrigo and I went running in and out of Spanish class while the teacher was away, flicking the circuit breaker off and on and killing the lights in the building. Ol' Thomas A. got caught and ratted me out, the kinky-haired bastard. Now this was when corporal punishment was still allowed in school. Three licks with a wooden paddle! Licks, we called 'em. Yeah, the vice-principal licked me, alright. I got licked plenty in seventh grade. I think my coccyx is bent because of seventh grade.

Apropos of nothing, I saw a gen-u-wine cowboy in Lowe's tonight. He was wearing a Stetson, boots, and SPURS by the sweet baby jeebus!!!1! What the hell does he need with SPURS in a hardware store in Pennsylvania? Huh?? Does he know his Bronco is from FORD???

We're all marching straight to white man's hell and I'm leading the bloody parade.
  • Current Mood: coccyx
  • Current Music: BBC America, showing Creature Comforts
I had to keep kicking kids out of our store. It was ridiculous. Good thing I am kind of a bitch. I actually used the word "horseplay"
"Oh, it's so good to be out of that pesky weather and nature. It was ruining my hair. Look, honey! Those trees look almost real! Take my picture!"