Paradise Lost

I've detailed a lot of horrible retail related rectal probings here. I've talked at length about super stoned super seniors, I've touched on Aryans hopped up on angel dust and I've thoroughly covered the affluently arrogant. The sad part of all of these horrible sects of society is that none of them hold a candle to the trauma that one little boy inflicted upon our staff's psyche. 

The trauma tipped off when what had to have been an eight to ten year-old child came into our store around 10pm. That right there is ridiculous. Why isn't a ten year-old kid at home and in bed? I understand being awake at home while binge watching reruns of Pokemon on Netflix. That's something that an only mildly irresponsible parent would allow/provide. Laziness isn't my point of contention, though. I mean, I'm not that much of a judgmental hard ass. I'm willing to concede the right for parents to let their plasma screen TV do a little parenting. What I simply can't comprehend is why little Snowflake is wandering into a strip mall pizzeria after the suns been down for the amount of time it takes to watch the extended edition of Django Unchained twice over. Shouldn't Johnny be getting tucked into his Lightning McQueen shaped bed, not wandering around downtown after curfew?
 
I'll defend the parents a little by acknowledging that they did drive the kid to the parking lot. They simply tapped out when it came to the tough chore of peeling their asses out of their Honda Accord so they could pick up their own food. Instead of making the lengthy journey that wouldn't have even been a first down in the NFL, they sent their little errand boy to handle the short yardage situation. He was essentially the prepubescent Mike Alstott for his super lazy and wildly irresponsible parents. To further draw me closer to the edge of the cliff face that I've been teetering on for years, the kid's parents let him come in wearing a flat billed hat that read "DOPE." Now, who would allow the fruit of their loins to wander around in a fitted cap that's championing an illicit drug? I don't give two shits that it's everybody's favorite supposedly harmless drug. I mean, it only causes a third of the population to give up on life, collect welfare and lifelessly watch shitty anime while eating junk food that's actually called "Munchies." Think about that, they actually made what is essentially a salt lick for losers that's called Munchies. Honestly, can you believe we have enough degenerates that consume enough of an excess of cannabis that a company thought it would be a grand idea to release a product that survives solely based on the purchasing power of the pot fueled population?

Anyway, I should have took this kids hat, placed it next to our oven and then shoved the the little spoiled brat head first into our stove. That way the hat could have been a warning to all the other parents that think turning their kids into walking advertisements for edibles is on the up-and-up. Seriously, what parent would allow their spawn to rep a hat that essentially explains their fondness for drugs while simultaneously announcing their inability to be present in their little shitheads life? If my kid came home from third grade sporting a hat that supported hash I'd try and shove him back in his Mom's cooze, because God knows he came out underdone. Any kid of mine would have at least had the wherewithal to remove an article of clothing like that before he made it home. And I definitely wouldn't let my kid, who hasn't eclipsed the single digits in the age department, run errands for his father while sporting a ball cap that announced my inability to parent. I'd hope Wayne Jr. would at least put in a little effort when trying to display his dislike for daddy. You know, like not giving me a fashionable fuck you from the passenger seat of the family sedan.
 
Of course the kid's style made perfect sense considering he strolled on into our store and asked, "Are you guys still open?". I guess the giant fluorescent open sign that flashed so hard it would give Stevie Wonder an epileptic seizure definitely wasn't enough of a clue. The fact that we had an eighteen inch monitor six feet from the customer's face saying his order was ready was another secret shot at pulling the wool over the kid's ingenious eyes. Oh, and we just love standing by the counter welcoming people to the store after hours. It's a fun little game we play to try and confuse our customer base. 

Seriously, for the love of all that is holy, parents, please start parenting. I'm not asking you to raise a Rhodes Scholar. I'm just hoping that we can remove the ganja related gear from our grade-schoolers and successfully tuck them into bed before midnight. Is that asking too much?