The other day, while shamelessly perusing the science fiction section of my local Borders (Where I have somehow convinced myself that I WILL someday meet the man of my dreams, though by the looks of my fellow sci-fi aficionados, my soulmate would have to be either 12 years old, morbidly obese, wearing a Lord of the Rings costume on a daily basis, or some incredibly life affirming combination of the three)(Can you tell I’m 24 years old and living with my parents, yet? Good), I witnessed something that truly restored at least a couple of tetris block-sized pieces of my shattered faith in humanity. Wait for it. Even as I stood there valiantly attempting my best chick-flick worthy cute-girl-with-a-brain-and-excellent-taste-in-high-minded-toocoolforschool-literature-and-other-stuff-you’ve-never-heard-of-in-your-life…look, my spidey senses suddenly detected the goings-on in the nearby Young Adult section, where two middle school girls were LITERALLY (ha) about to begin a battle royale over what I assumed must be the last copy of Twilight to be had on this particular day and in this particular bookstore. Now, there are few things in this world that elicit such unabashed glee inside my snarky 24-year old head the way that seeing other people fight in public never fails to do. Other than running into girls I hated in high school who have since gotten fatter than I have and are currently employed as Bourbon Street shot girls because that’s what happens when you peace out of college after freshman year you idiot, this is what I live for. Did I mention that I have a master’s degree and am currently unemployed? But I digress. Back to the impending cage match.
So. From what I can tell at this point, Pre-Teen Girl Numero Uno (let's call her Wednesday Adams) had clearly gotten there first, only to be distracted for a split second by what I assume was an attack of her subconscious future self crying with shame at her early taste in fashion, music, and by God, "literature", during which time Pre-Teen Girl Numero Dos (who we're calling Stephanie Tanner because I swear she stepped straight out of Full House, and if you haven't guessed I'm already on Wednesday's side) swooped in like the sneaky natural blonde biatch that she was born to be, snatching up Wednesday's intended literary masterpiece before even one of Wed's future multiple personalities realizes what's up. When she wises up, though, all hell breaks loose. Cut to Marisa looking on with rapt attention and wishing for the bucket of popcorn and recliner that would make this experience all that it could be.
In any case, Wednesday and Steph proceed to girl-fight for a good 30 seconds, which is pretty boring considering girl fighting is mostly passive aggressive, and let's be honest, girls that age don't yet possess the necessary life experience to make passive aggressiveness truly captivating to a sophisticated audience, such as myself. Anyway, when passive aggressive proves too subtle, the girls begin one hell of a tug-o-war, whilst both trying to remain quiet enough that their guardians (who are ostensibly nearby, although I've yet to lay eyes on them and I'm thinking why can't people just keep their damned pets on a leash in public??Seriously folks, I don't want to get bitten by your rabid Toddler-Jack Russell Terrier mix) remain unaware of this brawl. This tactic, however, quickly descends into a screaming match and the mothers come a-runnin', just in time for the hair-pulling. Cut to Marisa giggling like she's mentally disabled, as Wednesday and Steph's respective chauffeurs go into Mama Bear Mode. All ends well when someone FINALLY has the presence of mind to enquire whether the stock room houses extra copies of the Great American Novel in question, which OF COURSE they do, ma'am, it is TWILIGHT after all and they probably have employees back there copying it by hand like ancient monks because God forbid they run out of it and a pre-pubescent/post-menopausal bloodbath ensues! Sigh.
What about this, you ask, restores a modicum of my faith in humanity?! Relax and I'll tell you. It was the simple fact that two young kids were fighting, not over video games or reality television or some popular boy in class who they will run into in ten years when he serves them a latte at Starbuxxx and think Thank Christ I dodged that particular teen pregnancy, BUT over A BOOK. This makes me so happy that I'm not even much bothered that it was written by asshat Stephenie Meyer. Let me explain. If you are one of those people who "hates to read" or lists Cosmopolitan and OK Magazine under their favorite books on TheFacebook, I judge you. I judge you HARD. In fact, I think you might be retarded. That's right, I said it. I ain't scurred. Get your vain head out of your vapid ass and open a book once in awhile. You might learn something and slowly start to become a mildly interesting person who can occasionally spell words correctly and form coherent sentences. I don't care what you read (although if it's all chick lit, I may judge you just a little), just turn off The Jersey Shore or Keeping Up With the Kardashians and use your brain and your imagination once in a blue moon!!!
Ugh. Ok, Rant Over. Moral of the story: Kids getting excited about reading is kind of AWESOME. Even if they look like Stephanie Tanner from Full House.
Also, those two mini-gladiators inspired my latest literary choice, entitled The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, which is science fiction and about kids age 12-18 battling to the death in a huge arena in a future society where the whole thing is nationally televised (which is, incidentally, exactly where most kids age 12-18 belong, in my opinion). It's pretty rad and I totally recommend it. Which, incidentally is what I'll be doing here. Talking about whatever I'm reading at any given time as well as whatever other random, oh-so-validating events occur in my terribly exciting everyday life. And probably being as sarcastic and obnoxious about it as I can manage. So, until next time...
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