Y'know, I've been so busy that I've kinda lost track of how to be funny. It kinda sucks, if you ask me. I've been once again bouncing around this town like a ping pong ball. But that'll be coming to an end soon and I'll just bounce around the state for a while (Mother's Day) and even bounce around other states (Hill's graduation). No rest for the weary, I guess.
So yeah, I spent a few bucks this weekend. Went and got my car serviced with the oil change and the tire rotation and such on Saturday. I decided to stay in the waiting room while they did it since it was only going to take an hour. The only other occupants of the room were two kids, who I'd guess were 5 and 9. Now, I take my car to the dealership on the north side of town. For all two of you that still read here and haven't been to Jacksonville, the northside is not what's known as an area with a lot of income. If PK still had his blog, you'd get to hear his stories of educating fourth graders up there. It's not pretty. So anyway, when two kids from the northside see a white guy plop down on the couch and break out a Sony PSP, you can say their interest is piqued immediately.
Of course, now my problem is that the game I've got in there is Grand Theft Auto. Not exactly appropriate material to show to the under-10 set, even if they've probably seen and heard 90% of the stuff in that game just hanging around their neighborhood for 20 minutes. But still. I'm not playing GTA with a couple kids watching. So I put in
Katamari, a very bizarre but much kid-friendlier game. They let me play it for maybe 45 seconds before the inevitable, "CAN I PLAY, CAN I PLAY? CAN I? CAN I?" So, being the nice guy that I am, I show them how the controls work and pass the game to the younger one first, telling him that he can play for two minutes before he has to pass it on to his sister. Thankfully the game has a timer in the corner to keep things honest. So, he grabs the PSP and what does he do?
He promptly drools on it. Literally.
I kindly tell him that it's cool but it's not
that cool and wipe the screen off on his shorts. And before you say it, no, I'm not wiping the drool off on my shorts, thank you very much. I'm being nice enough as it is. So if there's a kid drool cleanup on aisle 3, my shorts are not invited, thanks. After the drool incident he calms down but gets sick of the controls for the game. (In his defense, I get sick of the controls for the game too, but that's neither here nor there.) He passes it on to his sister, who figures it out much quicker but doesn't like the game too much and asks what else I have. Too bad all I have is GTA... And her eyes light up when she realizes that's what the other game is. I say, "no, we're not playing that one." She begs. She pleads. Her brother chimes in. I tell them both no. I realize that if I ever have kids, this is exactly what I will be going through. But I stand firm. I am a rock, I am an island, dammit. No kid is going to lull me into a situation where an irate father puts my head through the glass plating of a snack machine. Once they give up pleading to play GTA and see that I've started up Katamari again, they suddenly get less bored of it than they were before. So once again it becomes taking turns of two minutes apiece.
At this point I realize how strange it must look to anybody walking by, because no matter how I move these two kids are right on top of me. I mean RIGHT on top of me. So people will either think I'm their father ("why yes, their mother
is exceptionally dark!") or some weird guy who drives an old van with no windows ("yes sir, your Molester 9000's tires are rotated and we put some fresh 10W30 in there for you.") As I'm thinking this, I'm wondering who the hell was supposed to be watching these kids. Do they belong to an employee? A customer who saw a quick place to dump their kids for an hour? Are they plants by the government to see how easily kids can access M-rated video games? So many possibilities. None of them particularly good.
Eventually their grandmother shows up. I guess she's a cleaning lady for the dealership. She gives me an odd look, I shrug my shoulders and she gives me a smile that says, "they trapped ya, huh?" She then announces that their mom will be here in a few minutes to pick them up so they'd better leave the nice man alone. They say thanks for letting them play, the grandmother gives me another knowing smile and they head outside. I go back to playing my game.
As if on cue, my car is ready not 90 seconds after they leave. I pay way too much money to get my car back and then head off to get Tracy's car worked on in the direct opposite end of town. No rest for the weary. At least both cars work now... And I skipped the waiting room for that one.
Actual "funny junk"* coming later this week. Honest.
* My most popular search term, before even "crunk for christ" and "egg and muffin toaster." Amazing!
