Sometimes while grocery shopping in NYC, it’s difficult to negotiate the narrow aisles.
And sometimes it’s even more difficult not to yell “you wretched little imp” to a ten year old kid who swings open a freezer door in the frozen foods section and hits you squarely in the head as your’re reaching for the last carton of Breyer’s Vanilla Fudge ice cream (which was on sale.)
At first I questioned the parentage of the kid – thinking he was a spawn of Satan – as I saw horns protruding from his little skull; but after my sight fully returned I realized they were actually earbuds to an iPod.
When the ringing in my ears stopped, I noticed he was wearing a Ramones tee-shirt, so I let the incident pass (for the moment.)
Any ten year old who wears a Ramones tee-shirt, blatantly hits me in the head with a door as I reach for ice cream, and then grins mischievously: has my respect.
Indeed, my respect.
Five minutes later in aisle seven (the spice, dressings, and cooking oils section) our carts passed. As he and his mother were looking at some foo-foo salad dressing (I can’t even pronounce), I grabbed a bottle of vanilla extract and tossed it into their cart without them taking notice.
Yes, it might be a tad bit immature, but…
He started it.