No, this won’t be about some politician or actor or musician or religious figure or even that mail-carrier that keeps tearing the pages of your latest copy of Rolling Stone.Â Instead, I will be speaking today of the two worst examples of humanity that I’ve ever seen in the living, breathing flesh.Â I saw them both on the same night, less than five miles away from each other.
With any luck, they did not meet, fall in love, and breed.
A few weeks ago, I found myself in Barnes and Noble on a Friday night.Â Let’s set aside the fact that I thinkÂ this isÂ an exciting way to spend a Friday night, though.Â We have more important things to worry about at the moment.
So I’m standing in the fiction section, facing all the Jack Ketchum and Brian Keene books before moving on to the Piccirilli’s, and two teenage girls run up to the book shelf next to me.Â The following conversation takes place…
Girl 1: This one here.Â You have got to read this book!
Girl 2: No.
Girl 1: C’mon!Â It’s, like, the best book ever!Â I’ll buy it for you.Â Just read it!
Girl 2: I said ‘No.’
Girl 1: Well, why not?
Girl 2: Because books suck.
I ran to the Piccirilli’s before I could be tempted to beat the littleÂ twit with a Dark Tower trade paperback.
Twenty minutes later, I’m still thinking about how much I hate that girl.Â At the same time, I’m stopping by a nearby Walgreens to grab some chips.Â I grab a bag of said chips, muttering the entire time about how I hope that ignorant bitch ends up working a donkey show in Juarez until she’s old and gray, then head for the checkout counter.
Where I spotÂ subjectÂ numero dos.
Another teenager, male this time.Â Skinny and shirtless, his baggy jeans hitched down just above his knee.Â He’s wearing a ski cap for some dumbass reason.Â His face begs to be punched.Â Just once, but really hard.
I get behind him and wait.Â He doesn’t have anything to buy.Â Ah, he wants smokes.Â Fucking figures.
So, he reaches the counter, and I get to listen to another brilliant conversation…
Human scum: Which cigarettes are cheapest?
Cashier: I don’t know.
Human Scum: Can you check?
She checks.Â After a moment, she turns around holding a pack of something that looks like it dropped out of the Marlboro Man’s asshole.
Cashier: These are two bucks.
Human Scum: Fuck! Two bucks?
Human Scum: Anything cheaper?
Human Scum (sighing like he just found out his puppy has a terminal illness): Fine.Â A pack of those.
Cashier: That’ll be two dollars.
And the Human Scum pays with a hundred dollar bill.
That’s a right. A. Hundred. Dollar. Bill.
Now, I don’t know about you fine folks, but I can count the amount of times I’ve held a Ben Franklin on one hand.Â Fuck, if you chopped off four of the fingers on that hand, I could still make the count.Â
People, we are being overrun by idiotic, half-dressed teenagers who refuse to read and use large bills to make small purchases they don’t think they can afford.Â Something must be done about this.Â Something drastic.Â Maybe these kids should be forced into a life of horrible servitude, performing jobs nobody wants.
Teacher: Class, this is Jimmy.
Class: Hi, Jimmy.
Teacher: Jimmy masturbates pigs for a living because he thinks booksÂ are lameÂ and he doesn’t know how to wear a belt.
Class: Can we read now, please?