A posse of children
Alright. So I'm about to tell a story, and like most good stories this one has a preface.
Preface:
Yesterday, at a time unknown to me (and I'm typically so good at remembering these things), we were on a quest. The miniscule car, piloted by it's miniscule driver (being Miranda, of course), contained four passengers. Myself, Bridget, Daniel and Xavier. We were on our way back from an evening viewing of M. Night Shyamalan's most recent release, The Happening (his first R-rated movie, you know). The plan had been made after discussion, argument and about 10 minutes parked, seeing as we were a clown car of indecisive people. We would go swim at my house. But first, we had to aquire bathing suits. First stop was Bridget's, which was easy enough. Then was Xavier's, so the boys could get their trunks. This is where it got tricky.
While driving through the neighborhood, in the wrong direction because Miranda cannot actually take directions, we come across a group of 7-10 children, ages from about 10-12 is my guess, who are playing a basketball game in the middle of the road. We drive slowly, and when they neglect to move for the car, we honk and keep driving. The children yell a few obscenities at us that weren't really heard because the windows were up, although "Stupid white people," was pretty clear. We turn at the end of the street, which is a culdesak, because we need to turn and go the right way. While doing so, we contemplate what we're going to yell at the kids. Daniel suggests "piss off and die", Miranda's in favor of a spur of the moment insult and I'm, of course, trying to settle everyone down. We begin to ride in their direction when a girl, who seems to be the tallest if not the oldest, stands in the middle of the street and stares us down.
We come to a point where we can no longer drive without running the child over, which was a discussed option, but instead we decide to wait it out. The munchkins circle the car, aggresively. All the while the car is in pandemonium. Courses of action are suggested. Hit the dumb bitch, get out of the car and scare the children, yell at them, call the cops. Eventually, we honk enough and they relent. We drive on and half the car is in favor of turning around and picking a fight. Fortunatly I talk sense into that half of the car and we continue on. Laughing about the isolated incident, we continue to have a good evening.
Actual story, which is probably shorter than the preface but maybe not:
Tonight, the same group as before minus Bridget unfortunatly (her reaction would have been my favorite), travels to Xavier's after Iron Man. We sucessfully pull into Xavier's driveway and cut the power but remain in the car, deciding what to do. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a hulking figure in the darkness. It is illuminated for a moment under the street light and the image makes me chuckle. Two children on a mountain bike, one seated and the other riding pegs, circle the culdesak. "Hey look. Kids." I say, amused. The other three laugh and we speculate. Are they the kids from last night? Should we go scare them? Haha.
Haha. No.
The bikers stop in the shadows, semi-concealed by bushes, and sit idle. "What are they doing?" Is the obvious question, and we speculate a bit more, mostly half-joking about their intent to stalk us. And then they begin to ride away and all is well.
NOT.
They stop on the other side of the car and sit there. The light and a better look shows us that the girl who stood before our car the day before is driving the bike and is giving us evil eye. We decide that we better leave for a few minutes and come back, because we don't really want to be responsible for getting verbally aggressive at children. We start the car, pull out of the driveway and aim to drive past the bike-monsters. We went too slowly, apparently, because before we knew it the two kids on the bike had pulled out in front of the car, gotten off the bike, and dropped it in front of us. They stood arms crossed and mean-faced in the headlights and we are all, at this point, like, "WHAT THE FUCK, KIDS?" A course of action then needs to be decided. Most of us are for getting out and telling the two off, when, from down the street, we see movement.
From out of the darkness and shadows come kids. I couldn't really count them all, but there were many, barrelling towards us on bikes and feet. The two look back at their assembling army of miscreants and smile vindictively, as if to say, "revenge is our's!" And I was confused because we hadn't really done anything but I suppose that wasn't the point.
We did the mature thing, which was to pull back into the driveway and exit the vehicle without saying anything. We went inside, asked X's dad to watch the car, and wtf'ed for a few more minutes.
The moral:
What the hell is with kids these days that they feel the need to get aggressive against people who really didn't do anything to them? Should I blame parenting? Television?
Oi. That was fun to write.
If I ever see those children again I will hurt them with my words.
Preface:
Yesterday, at a time unknown to me (and I'm typically so good at remembering these things), we were on a quest. The miniscule car, piloted by it's miniscule driver (being Miranda, of course), contained four passengers. Myself, Bridget, Daniel and Xavier. We were on our way back from an evening viewing of M. Night Shyamalan's most recent release, The Happening (his first R-rated movie, you know). The plan had been made after discussion, argument and about 10 minutes parked, seeing as we were a clown car of indecisive people. We would go swim at my house. But first, we had to aquire bathing suits. First stop was Bridget's, which was easy enough. Then was Xavier's, so the boys could get their trunks. This is where it got tricky.
While driving through the neighborhood, in the wrong direction because Miranda cannot actually take directions, we come across a group of 7-10 children, ages from about 10-12 is my guess, who are playing a basketball game in the middle of the road. We drive slowly, and when they neglect to move for the car, we honk and keep driving. The children yell a few obscenities at us that weren't really heard because the windows were up, although "Stupid white people," was pretty clear. We turn at the end of the street, which is a culdesak, because we need to turn and go the right way. While doing so, we contemplate what we're going to yell at the kids. Daniel suggests "piss off and die", Miranda's in favor of a spur of the moment insult and I'm, of course, trying to settle everyone down. We begin to ride in their direction when a girl, who seems to be the tallest if not the oldest, stands in the middle of the street and stares us down.
We come to a point where we can no longer drive without running the child over, which was a discussed option, but instead we decide to wait it out. The munchkins circle the car, aggresively. All the while the car is in pandemonium. Courses of action are suggested. Hit the dumb bitch, get out of the car and scare the children, yell at them, call the cops. Eventually, we honk enough and they relent. We drive on and half the car is in favor of turning around and picking a fight. Fortunatly I talk sense into that half of the car and we continue on. Laughing about the isolated incident, we continue to have a good evening.
Actual story, which is probably shorter than the preface but maybe not:
Tonight, the same group as before minus Bridget unfortunatly (her reaction would have been my favorite), travels to Xavier's after Iron Man. We sucessfully pull into Xavier's driveway and cut the power but remain in the car, deciding what to do. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a hulking figure in the darkness. It is illuminated for a moment under the street light and the image makes me chuckle. Two children on a mountain bike, one seated and the other riding pegs, circle the culdesak. "Hey look. Kids." I say, amused. The other three laugh and we speculate. Are they the kids from last night? Should we go scare them? Haha.
Haha. No.
The bikers stop in the shadows, semi-concealed by bushes, and sit idle. "What are they doing?" Is the obvious question, and we speculate a bit more, mostly half-joking about their intent to stalk us. And then they begin to ride away and all is well.
NOT.
They stop on the other side of the car and sit there. The light and a better look shows us that the girl who stood before our car the day before is driving the bike and is giving us evil eye. We decide that we better leave for a few minutes and come back, because we don't really want to be responsible for getting verbally aggressive at children. We start the car, pull out of the driveway and aim to drive past the bike-monsters. We went too slowly, apparently, because before we knew it the two kids on the bike had pulled out in front of the car, gotten off the bike, and dropped it in front of us. They stood arms crossed and mean-faced in the headlights and we are all, at this point, like, "WHAT THE FUCK, KIDS?" A course of action then needs to be decided. Most of us are for getting out and telling the two off, when, from down the street, we see movement.
From out of the darkness and shadows come kids. I couldn't really count them all, but there were many, barrelling towards us on bikes and feet. The two look back at their assembling army of miscreants and smile vindictively, as if to say, "revenge is our's!" And I was confused because we hadn't really done anything but I suppose that wasn't the point.
We did the mature thing, which was to pull back into the driveway and exit the vehicle without saying anything. We went inside, asked X's dad to watch the car, and wtf'ed for a few more minutes.
The moral:
What the hell is with kids these days that they feel the need to get aggressive against people who really didn't do anything to them? Should I blame parenting? Television?
Oi. That was fun to write.
If I ever see those children again I will hurt them with my words.