Friday, November 7, 2008

Patron of Annoyance

I'm sitting in a Peterborough cafe, and I'm about to snap...a dumb kid's neck. Just for completion, I'll also have to errr - relocate - his non-stop giggling girlfriend. Seriously, where do these kids come from? Are they spontaneously spawned out of some dark pit, released into the night to torment innocents?

This dude, who in all fairness is probably intelligent, in some the very least he can probably kill Xbox Halo, sits across from the giggler periodically making a half-growl, half-throat clearing, recovering pneumonia patient noise. Every time he does this, giggler breaks out in a new spasm. No, he's not recovering from a lung-replacing, five pack a day habit. He's 15.

Giggler's obviously infatuated, her natural intelligence washed overboard in a wave of Disney fairy tales and adolescent hormones. Throat-noise is kinda the same, except his is 20% class clown, 80% raging hormones. Poor things.

All right, he just left. I was verging on cramming my coffee mug down his throat while screaming,


You can't get too violent with this sort. They're looking for strong affirmation.

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