Let me set the scene. This *ENTIRE* Starbucks is emtpy. There must be twenty five empty seats - and three young adults plop down next to me on the couch. High school, barely post-high school, I don't know for sure. (The photo at right shows the scene of the crime.)Character #1: Teen-age male, shaggy brown hair of medium length, a green T-shirt, green eyes and blue jeans that have seen better days. There's a hole in the back of one leg that makes you wonder if it is a strategically placed rip or an access hatch.
Character #2 & #3: Undistinguished teenage girls, both wearing shorts and shirts that left their midriffs bare despite the fact that is pouring rain outside and frigid inside this Starbucks.
One was slightly more pale and a bit more chunky (she was the brunette, natch - we'll call her Brunhilde) than the other. She also had the good sense to be wearing some sort of jacket, although it wasn't doing nearly enough to keep her warm. Brunhilde jabbered on a lot while playing on her cell phone and firing questions, while the friend, the blonde one, stared straight down at her phone and slammed out text messages for a while. We'll call the blonde Cassie, just because.
The chunky brunette and the slightly smarter blonde (is that a phrase even used in the English language?) were macking HARD on this dude. You could see the pheromones rolling of Brunhilde like those old Loony Tunes with the skunk and the cat. Brunhilde wanted GreenEyes badly, even if he was way out of her league. Cassie probably knew she could get him if she put out the effort, but she wasn't really bothered.
They wandered in, oblivious to the fact that I was trying *really* hard not to be obvious about the fact that I was *obviously* listening once the conversation got good and proceeded to have a rambling, free-form conversation that honestly makes me weep with shame for the future of mankind, humanity and the fact that entitled little monsters like this are supposed to be voting in elections and paying my social security in a few decades time. WEEP WITH SHAME! Honestly, when the time comes, I think I'll just find a nice plastic bag rather than trust Brunhilde and Cassie to elect anything more than a potted plant to high office.
Here are the "alleged" highlights of this fictional biography of the mystery known as GreenEyes:
1. GreeneEyes was supposedly born at a "clothing-optional resort" to a mother who no longer rears him, only "stops in" occasionally.
2. There are allegedly 18 people living at his house and most of them smoke weed all day. People constantly accuse him of smoking because he smells like weed "all the time." I don't smell it, but I have a vicious sinus infection at the moment.
3. After about two minutes of this claptrap, I can tell that he's totally fronting on these girls, but they're lapping it up like cats with a bowl full of cream.
4. GreenEyes just told the girls that he is "legally" blind, and that he can't see when he drives on the Interstate. All he sees are "blurs of light." Cassie just asked him "Why don't you get contacts?" and he said that he "enjoys the visions." Uh-huh. No flies on her. Brunhilde thinks that the blurs are wonderful and wants to know what he does when "there are like big trucks and things." I bet that's not the only big thing she's after.
5. There's some convoluted drama about the people he lives with and some cars and some other people and how it is like an open house and I don't really understand the lies. I don't really care. Ugh. Bo-ring.
6. Apparently, someone named "Michelle" or "Millie" (I dunno) doesn't like the GreenEyes, because she won't let him work more than the weekends somewhere. McDonald's maybe? Would you really want to work six days a week at McDonald's?
7. Now the kids are complaining about how hard it is to work for a living. Really? Maybe they're not in the weed business after all.
8. Somebody named Lisa at whatever place they work is way too nice and is the manager's spy, apparently. Alice wants Darla's job and she's next in line. Wow. This is like "Saved By the Bell" without the pseudo-diversity. Who is Dennis? Dallas? Melvin? I can't keep up. Wait. STOP. Apparently someone is bipolar.
I SWEAR TO CTHULHU! FROM THEIR MOUTH TO THIS KEYBOARD!
9. Ohhhhhhh. Apparently they work at a hardware store? Kids mumble and there's some really loud music on now. Plus they're all talking over each other in excitement over this Lisa chick who apparently tattles on EVERYONE because she is trying to get in bed with Dennis? Dallas? Melvin? - whoever the manager is. There's a bell or something people ding when they want service? I gotta say, I can't see this kids at a hardware store - but I guess they can just work the register or whatever.
10. And, apparently the guy gets a phone call and this episode of "As The Drill Bit Spins" is over. He obviously has better things to do than hang around with two way too sweet but waaaaaaaaaaay out of their league girls. Like hook up with his dealer or something maybe? Seriously. He is mumbling into this old-skool flip phone and ignoring the barista patiently standing at the register waiting for him to order.
11. Now the dude - I still never caught his name - is on the phone at the register ordering for real this time. A chocolate chip Frappucino® And some more Frappucinos® Got the munchies do we? Uh-huh. Aaaaaaand he's gone.
That was the best SBUXDRAMA ever and I didn't even have to work for it. It walked right in and sat down beside me. My faith in the essential craziness of humanity has been restored!
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