(Before you thinking this is another one of my old man yelling from his porch posts-- let me just say whenever I was a teenager hanging around-- we were always up to no good. Nothing serious. But some level of no goodness. Whether that was buying wine coolers or beer with fake ID, doing some sort of low level vandalism, or stealing stuff from stores where our friends worked. So this isn't about teenagers today-- it's about teenagers every day.)
Anyway, the other night I was out for my nightly walk with Roscoe and I tied him to a bench in front of "The NutBox" (no it's not a or comedy club or gay bar whatever-- it's a place where you can actually buy nuts) And if I ever leave Roscoe on the street while I head into a store I always make sure it's a spot where I can keep an eye on him. I'm way paranoid about him being stolen and ending up a pitbull sparring partner or something. I'm extra careful that way.
Through the NutBox window I soon see this group of teenage boys gathering around Roscoe. My immediate thought was that I should be concerned. Why'd they stop for Roscoe!? (No 'good' reason I tells ya!) Maybe to throw a graffiti tag up on him or something?! Maybe "Flipski" was gonna spraypaint FLiPSki on my dog's back?!! (Teenagers are always up to no good I tells ya!) Then my brain said to me, 'Ay! What's with your snap judgement over a group of teenagers!? Roscoe is a cute dog! Maybe they just want to say hello to a cute dog!? That's not a possibility??' In any case, I decided to hurry up.
A half-minute later I see one of the teenagers slap Roscoe on the butt (fairly hard) then give Roscoe the finger right in his face! Up to his nose! All the kids laughed and walked away. My brain had the immediate confrontation argument. 'Do I run outside and get into it with the kids? Mix it up!? Or just... let it go?' I needed to decide in that split second as they were heading down the block. I even thought up a good starting line, 'Ay!!! You know it's not right to hit dogs! That's why I don't hit your momma, bitch!' POW!
I went with option B. Don't do anything. If there's doubt about my actions-- I can't snap. And the idea of being forced to drink puddle water by a bunch of laughing 16 year old boys just wasn't an appealing way to close out my day. So I got my bag of nuts and headed out to Roscoe who was tail down. He gave me a look like, 'Dad? Did you see what happened? Did you see? That kid hit my butt and gave me the finger!' He really did look sad. I gave him a look like, 'They did!? Where? Show me! Who did?!' (I didn't want him to know that I actually saw and was in the process of officially wimping out). I took him home and cooked him an egg.
But the bottomline is-- you can't trust a group of teenagers unless they're at church camp or something! Because 'no good' is the activity of any group of teenagers! They're always up to no good I tells ya! Especially at night! I know this-- as I was that then totally... as were we all... (for the most part).
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