sagewolf04: No Fire
Yesterday as I was getting out of work at the library a group of wiry youths accosted me in the parking garage. There was no introduction, just an ambush of questions in the manner young adolescents and the paparazzi are wonted to do. "What are you doing!?" One demanded. It was obvious that they were going to mug me or haggle me for money or get me to sign something for the little league of fucking somethings they play for so I quickened my pace, unlocking my bike lock and barking my responses over my shoulder. "Leaving work!" Still more questions. A steady barrage of them. They were David Frost and I was Richard Nixon and it was the last ten minutes of the interview and they could see they had me pinned. Finally one of them asked me "How old are you?!" to which I sighed frustratedly, "I don't know why??" "Because," he said, "You look like you're in your early twenties. Bye mister." I felt more defeated and beaten then than if they had pummeled me to the ground and taken my wallet while making jabs at my weight and effeminate walk. WHEN THE FUCK DID THE YOUTH GET SO NICE?? No fire at all I tell you. I for one blame the Yo Gabba Gabbas and the high fructose sugared cereal... no fucking fire.