An Open Letter To The Kid In The Food CourtPosted: October 17, 2013
Dear Food Court Kid,
I’m in my fifties and I forget a lot of things. But you know, I remember being nineteen, just like you.
Yup, I remember picking up a third job during the summer to be able to pay for school. I recall working my butt off in college. In my free time, I did things I probably wouldn’t do now. And I remember how awkward it felt on that precipice between being a kid and an adult.
You’re Kind Of A Tool. Well, A Lot A Tool.
Well, maybe I wasn’t just like you. On my worst day, I wasn’t nearly the tool that you seem to be.
Being loud sometimes is part of being nineteen. But part of successfully navigating that precipice into adulthood is recognizing that there’s a difference between “loud sometimes” and being so loud that you can assure yourself that all around you can enjoy your wit. You see, there is a difference between someone hearing you and them enjoying what they hear.
I, and everyone around could hear everything you spoke about. That seemed a goal of yours. Congratulations on achieving it. Sadly, your attempts at humor were pitiful.
When someone has a good sense of humor, they don’t have to speak in shouting tones to broadcast it. People gather to them to partake in the humor. Perhaps you noticed that…wait, that’s silly of me. I know damned well you didn’t notice because you were too occupied entertaining yourself to notice anything but the sound of your voice.
Let me try it this way. I noticed two things that should have told you that people were not enjoying your performance. First, there was at least one table between you and any other occupied table. People didn’t want to sit near you. I also noticed the lack of laughter from your two friends. When you rattled on about how foolish some acquaintance of yours sounded when he said the word churro, you were the only one laughing.
Things like distance and lack of laughter are called “clues”. You should look into getting a few.
Hey, Slick. Shampoo, Get Some.
Do you know what else you should consider getting? Shampoo.
Shampoo is soap, for your hair. Your mom is probably familiar with it. She may even have some coupons. Put the Xbox on pause and talk to her about it the next time she comes down to the basement.
It’s important to learn that people are willing to give you a break. We’re all human. We do things and then we rely on others to give us a little slack so that we can learn from our mistakes.
As a former awkward nineteen year old, I cut current awkward nineteen year olds plenty of slack. Unfortunately, you are so aggressively a fool that I can’t give you any slack.
I Am A Peaceful Man, But…
When you said “remember when I had that blood clot in my arm? I pretty much had a stroke, but I’m young enough that it didn’t affect me”, I wanted to come over and dope slap you. Only the law and the fact that I didn’t want to touch your greasy hair kept me from knocking some sense into you.
If, in fact, you did have some sort of stroke, it is my duty to tell you that you are wrong; it did affect you.
Be quiet. Observe the world. Stop inflicting yourself upon it. You’ll notice yourself feeling a lot less awkward. We’ll all enjoy each others company a lot more. Who knows what can happen for you from there?
That guy, over there, glaring at you
(yes, I even heard when you whispered)
Alright, now that I’ve got that off my chest I can tell you that I will have pieces up this weekend on the two other blogs I write on – Long Awkward Pause and The Nudge Wink Report. I write once a month for both, both my once a months hit at the same time.
The writers of Long Awkward Pause are taking on interviews with monsters, sort of a Halloween thing. At Nudge Wink, I’ll be holding forth on some news related topic that I ought to start writing about soon. Both those blogs have a lot of good writers, and me. Hope to see you there.