I was going to post this earlier while I was at work but I ended up working. Fancy that.
I was leaving Starbucks today, which is nothing spectacular in itself except that I was at the Starbucks I loathe more than most loathe-worthy things. And the fact that I had a good experience. There was a nice guy who tried to talk me into buying their new autumn apple loaf, which I kindly declined, and he was still nice and funny and cute in an obviously gay way.
But back to the point of this.
I was leaving Starbucks today and to my right was a large group of hispanic teenagers. No, I’m not prejudiced against Hispanics in any way shape or form, I’m just working on my descriptive-ness because I think I’ve gone a little lax in both my grammar and style since the slavedriving college days of Jim Hills.
*sigh* I’m so distracted at 12:39 am in the morning.
I was leaving Starbucks today on my way to work and to my right was a large group of Hispanic teenagers. They were all wearing black football jerseys which means either a) they were on some wierd unknown area football team or b) they wanted to look like they were a part of or were in actuality, a part of a gang. Not that this scares me. For the most part, gang members don’t bother me and I don’t bother them. I’ve given one the occasional truancy notice and called the occasional gang member’s momma to tell her about her kid’s detention, but that’s the extent of it.
But to my left was a family unit. A mom, a dad, and a maybe three year old kid. (Also Hispanic) The kid was the cute kind of little chumpy kid who was toting a backpack almost as big as he was, with Gap kids’ jeans and a plaid shirt with his little wannabe workman’s boots on. The teens in the jerseys started taunting this family – who knows why – saying “little homie wannabe” to this kid apparently trying to irk either him or his parents. The kid started yelling back and it wasn’t until I’d taken a few steps before I realized the kid was screaming “you-son-of-a (insert expletive) go (expletive) yourself you mother (expletive).” He was also prominently displaying one chubby little middle finger and waving it around while jumping. And screaming. The whole scene was just bizarre. His fingers were so tiny it was hardly noticeable he was flipping them the bird. And everyone was just laughing hysterically. It was like a chord in the wrong key that nobody hears. I felt like going back to the normal, safe, gay guy for a sense of reality. Which just shows you how out of whack it all was.