Walking through Best Buy when a woman frantically runs up to me with her son asking if I work there. Thrown back (since I clearly don’t), but interested, and also because I’m a thoughtful guy, I reply, “Yes, of course.” I instantly regretted this as I start getting berated. Apparently she bought her child who could barely even speak yet the wrong phone and this is somehow my fault. Double asshole move. Almost forgetting that I don’t work there I just diffused the situation, sent her on a quest to find Chuck in the electronic department, as he handles those problems and has the best knowledge of what she’s looking for. I told her good luck, sipped my Awful Awful, and strolled right out of the store. Next time don’t yell at the guy wearing sweatpants drinking an ice shake. Which you’ll have plenty of time to think about while searching for the non existent Chuck.
Strolling through Dave’s Market, because when I get hungry I can’t just do something simple like order a pizza; I have to drag a carriage around a store until I have the recipe for a Taco-Cake Lasagna. Well during this hunger crusade I come across what can only be a 4 year old, by himself walking down an aisle on a cell with such confidence you’d think he was shopping for a new suit for a big interview in the morning. As if he’s never been lost once in his entire life. I once got lost at that age at a haunted house for eleven seconds while holding a headless dudes hand, convinced he had to be my father.
Anyway about a minute later, what I assume could only be his mom or nominee for worst parent of the year walks up to him and says, “Hey you, are you ready to leave?” Hey you? Is this a common thing now? At 4, if I wasn’t able to reach the house phone, then I wasn’t on a phone. I also wasn’t even allowed in another room let alone able to roam a store by myself because for all my parents knew, I was climbing the house to do god damn back flips off the roof. When I become a father I refuse to look like a bad parent when my kid doesn’t have a cell phone and can’t just waltz around a grocery store holding a head of lettuce like it’s some kind of renaissance painting. Kid I’m 27, let me spear you the wonder. It’s lettuce, and it sucks, just like your mom.