Sunday, July 16, 2006

GROCERY STORE GANGSTA

I'm at Checkers just now getting a 12-pack of Diet Black Cherry Vanilla Coke for George, who's on his way here for a weekend of fun.

I also need lemons and half-and-half for the Limoncello Creams I'm going to ply him with later.

On my way to the dairy aisle I accidentally bump a little kid with my cart. He's probably 5 or 6 years old. Black. Cute as hell. It's the merest bump and it's his fault because he was walking backward and spinning around and, as children are wont, moving in unpredictable paths.

The bump doesn't even displace him, let alone knock him down or anything. Still, when he registers the offense, his eyes widen with disbelief. Anger. "How'd you feel if I kicked your ass?" he says.

I think for a moment, then grab his tiny shoulders and slam him into the dairy case. His feet are three feet off the ground, dangling helplessly. His face is full of fear. An inch from his ear I say: "How'd you feel if I kicked yours, you little fucker?"*

Then his mom grabs him and smacks him in the back of the head. "Tell the lady you're sorry."

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No, you're not," I say. "Say it like you mean it, asshole."+

And his mom chimes, "Say it again."

"I'm sorry, white lady."

I hope you appreciate these beverages, George.

*My exact words: "I wouldn't feel very good. I'm sorry."
+ My exact words: "That's OK."

24 Comments:

At 3:19 PM, Blogger george said...

Holy cow, I didn't know buying drinks could be so dangerous!

I say we head to Checkers right now, and I'll show him some real Gangsta moves, Seoul style. He'll so be gettin' get served!

 
At 3:20 PM, Blogger george said...

But first, I'll need some liquid courage in the form of some Limoncello Creams.

 
At 4:42 PM, Blogger driftwood said...

KC, you are so light. Now here is what you do: track him down and bust up his bicycle while he watches. And then tell that when he hears a lot of noise in the middle of the night it is going to be you trashing all his action figures. Punks these days, you gotta show them.

 
At 9:39 AM, Blogger cl said...

Good grief ... or here's a thought ... "Hey, mom, where did your son learn that?"

So what happens when he's 15?

 
At 9:40 AM, Blogger cl said...

Afterthought: My oldest nephew humiliated my (happily married) sister at Hen House one time by asking all the men around them: "Are you my daddy? Are YOU my daddy? Are you ..."

 
At 11:09 AM, Blogger driftwood said...

That’s vicious. How old was he?

 
At 11:15 AM, Blogger kc said...

Are you my daddy? Hehe!

I do worry occasionally what sorts of things my child might pick up at home and say in public. Now that I'm single, I know he or she won't pick up any interesting relationship repartee. Like if Beth and I had a child, he or she would probably be heard saying stuff like: "Here's an idea: Do it yourself! Who do you think I am? Your mother?"

(Actually, I myself might use that line on the kid, just to throw him for a loop.)

 
At 11:17 AM, Blogger kc said...

I should also note that the "white lady" bit was said with sour, vivid, mock deference, which I rather appreciated.

 
At 10:04 AM, Blogger cl said...

DW: He was 4. Young enough not to know better!

 
At 12:16 PM, Blogger george said...

Maybe we should avoid you giving me sweet things, considering what happened when you tried to give me a bit of licorice during last night's drive back to Lawrence.

And if I was scared, I wonder what that oncoming car was thinking...

 
At 4:39 PM, Blogger driftwood said...

There is a story here....

 
At 5:43 PM, Blogger kc said...

The story — or rather, the moral of the story — is this, DW: Don't drive George around in your car. The little pantywaist freaks out if, say for example, you're fiddling on a dark rural highway with a licorice rope (that HE wanted a piece of) and almost swerve into an oncoming car at 70 mph.

I thought he was a cool kind of traveling companion based on earlier in the day when I almost took out a stop sign in Peabody because I was innocently trying to see if a cute little diner behind me was open. To his credit, he politely, quietly pointed out the impending doom and it was easily averted.

But at night! Look out! He's like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. At night he was like, "Aaaggghhh! Please tell me you did that on purpose! Please tell me!"

 
At 7:06 PM, Blogger george said...

The almost swerving into oncoming traffic isn't what freaked me out -- it was that you started LAUGHING!

That's why I was like, "Please tell me you did that intentionally -- even if you didn't just tell me you did.

 
At 8:22 PM, Blogger george said...

Or, did you start laughing because I said that? I can't quite recall; maybe I was a bit frazzled.

So if I did get it wrong, just let me say: "I'm sorry, white lady."

 
At 8:36 PM, Blogger kc said...

Near-death experiences tickle my funny bone.

I think it's the same gene that makes me laugh when someone falls down.

 
At 8:40 PM, Blogger kc said...

Oh, and I think you should call me white lady all the time. I like the sound of that, Asian boy.

 
At 11:01 AM, Blogger driftwood said...

I just read an essay about Nathanael West’s two lesser know works. In giving a brief sketch of his life, the writer noted that West was notoriously indifferent to his driving and had even told a neighbor that he had no doubt that that was what would kill him. And indeed it was, at age thirty-seven he ran a stop sign, crashed into another car, and killed both himself and his wife. Now if even the neighbors knew that he expected to die from his bad driving, then his wife must have too. So what I would like to know is what was she like that she was willing to ride in a car with the man.

(This little reflection is not intended to cast aspersions on the concentration of any of the present company or of anybody else’s willingness to tolerate such whether screaming or not.)

 
At 11:05 AM, Blogger driftwood said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

 
At 11:07 AM, Blogger driftwood said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

 
At 12:37 PM, Blogger kc said...

Uncanny, DW! I was just thinking about Nathanael West's "Miss Lonelyhearts." And actually I was thinking about it because you asked George about good movies from the 1930s, and West's books about Hollywood were written during that time and seem iconic. I have read that and "Day of the Locust," but not the others. An old roommate of mine had to read "A Cool Million" for a business class. Can you imagine?

(I am a much better driver than Nathanael West. But that thing you said about his wife riding with him — I had the same question about William S. Burroughs' wife: Why would she consent to a drunken game of William Tell? Maybe both wives felt tied — resigned — to their husbands' doom, though Mrs. West seems to have had better odds.)

 
At 1:07 PM, Blogger driftwood said...

Blogger is posting extra copies of my comments. I'll zap 'em.

I think maybe I'll read "Miss Lonelyhearts". You would say it is worthwhile?

 
At 1:11 PM, Blogger driftwood said...

The essay made a "Cool Million" sound interesting. Very movie like, I think.

 
At 1:39 PM, Blogger driftwood said...

Oh, and KC, I’m glad that you were not thinking about “Day of the Locust” when you had your run in with the cute little brat in the store. When things get out of hand....

 
At 8:22 PM, Blogger kc said...

Nathanael West's aesthetic reminds me a little of "Barton Fink."

Yes, "Miss Lonelyhearts" is FANTASTIC. I would highly recommend it. It's short, too. You could read it in an afternoon.

"Day of the Locust" is also short.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home