Trying to enjoy the awesome despite unsupervised brats.
May 27, 2008
I'm savoring some of the 'bad for me' food I'm not supposed to be touching for a few days before I get all 'serious' with the lower-carb thing again, and as such I made a pilgrimage to the local Broncos - although 'local' may be a misnomer since there's only two left, I believe. If you're ever in town and have a hankering for fast food done right, this is definitely the place for you. Marduk, I love me a Big Bronco.
So I got one of those, and fries, which are the best fries on earth when fresh. And settled in to enjoy, which may have been my error. For you see, as soon as I sat down in the completely empty half of the joint, I was inundated by no less than nine (9) unsupervised kids, who were running around in circles, hitting each other, and generally screaming non-stop about what was on the television. So I looked up.
I guess it was the 'Indy 500'. I knew this because a) there were cars racing, and a big logo that said 'Hey, it's the Indy 500' on the screen. Oh, and the announcer had to let us know, every thirty seconds, that it was the 'Indy 500'. I found that highly irritating, because you know, I like to think my brain isn't so addled by drugs that I can't remember what I'm watching from minute to minute.
But then I recall the target audience for this brand of entertainment, and have to wonder. Are the only people that still watch NASCAR dreck so addled on the crystal meth that they are, in fact, forgetting what's in front of them from second to second? I suppose it is repetitive, the same six inbred turds driving around the same track five hundred times or whatever. Loop. Loop. Loop.
What was I watching, again? I fell asleep.
Well, I suppose that would've been the case were I watching that boring rubbish at home. But no, I was in public by nine (9) unsupervised turds who were doing their level best, I believe, to destroy the joint. Which made me wonder who is so stupid as to let nine (9) animals run rampant in a restaurant completely without supervision. And not just for a few seconds. Bedlam ensued the whole time I was eating.
As I was finishing up and cleaning up my mess, which a lot of you clowns never do at a fast food joint, you slobs, the 'parent figure' showed their face. This tubby mouth breather rounded the corner with one tray full of kiddie meals, and another for himself. And in his impotent, whiny voice, he was crying at them to 'come here' and 'sit down and eat', which they didn't because you know, they were out of control.
Why would you bring your animals into public like this if you can't control them? This is another thing I wonder. I'd be embarrassed to have kids like that emasculate me in public. I do believe this country needs some sort of test to prove you're capable of raising a child before you have one. A basic IQ test, maybe. Perhaps followed by a check to make sure you have a spine? I dunno.
Go Go Invertebrate America!