This afternoon, I found myself attending a community event that was overrun with teens. Several of the teens were fairly obnoxious in that "the world MUST revolve around me" sort of way. Others were actually polite and not annoying. The standouts were two -- one, girl who walked around sporting an attitude like she was some beauty queen and must be treated as such. At one point, she draped her arm around my shoulders and asked if I were selling magazines. One, I hate familiarity from complete strangers - and touching just makes me cringe. Two, there was nothing, really - nothing, about my presentation, attitude, etc that would lead any sane person to think I were selling magazines.
The other stand out was really just a conversation I overheard. A group of girls were being rather loud and giggily - and one of them pointed out a boy in the group and shouted for all to hear "fornicator! He's a fornicator - he fornicated on prom night" To which a friend of hers replied "it doesn't count, it only lasted a minute." Anyone want to explain what that means to me? I really thought sex is about which body parts touch. No one ever told me there were time requirements.
I still haven't perfected the mojito. It seems that the lime overwhelms the mint. Must work harder - experiment more. Tonight, I'm having something called a Root Beer. Two kinds of booze, lemon juice, and cola. I used less lemon than the bartender's guide called for and still, I think the lemon overwhelms the drink.
One more thing I love about living in the south. It is acceptable, and in some circles expected, that your evening entertainment is likely to involve booze and a saw or power tools. Now, THAT'S living!
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