So, the other day the GF and I took our kids to the local Pizza Planet-esque pizza joint because we had a good deal from an online “coupon” site. No, not that one.
So anyways, we are all doing our own thing, which means that I am playing the quick shooting basketball game. You know, the one where you shoot as many balls as you can in like 30 seconds and see who has the best score? You don’t?! Take a look at the picture.
We good? Good. So there’s three different machines at the place I am at and suddenly 2 of them are not working. No biggie since there is an operational one and the place is basically deserted on a Saturday afternoon.
WRONG! Some little kid comes over to me, despite my 6-foot tall, 260-pound, shaved head persona and asks me if I can help him with the other ones. What the fuck? Does it look like I WORK here?
After suppressing my natural inclination to be sarcastic, I tell the kid they didn’t work for me either but he can use the one I’m using when I’m done. I swipe my card (Anyone remember TOKENS or QUARTERS?) and begin the game.
I’m playing the game and sucking really bad because I can feel this kid staring at me. I can see him out of the corner of my eye and he’s inching closer and closer and I begin to think “Where the hell is your grown-up type person that’s supposed to be keeping pedophile look-a-likes from molesting you?”
Then he does something which I can only imagine having the chutzpah to do as a fully grown adult, let alone a 7- or 8-year old kid: he picks up one of the balls and ‘shoots’ it almost hitting me in the damn head!
I almost grabbed him and screamed “Who is the parent of this kid and what kind of a crappy parenting job have you done that will probably have him molested by the time he’s 12?”