It's one of those things you write a short story about and, later, an adaptation for a film. I was in lot 2 yesterday because I was (and am) still healing from a stomach bug I caught during the week. Because lot 2 is full view of the score board, I get a lot of stragglers from the neighborhood who stand outside the gate "watching" the game. (Note: It's entirely impossible to watch the game, as a stadium suggests "stadium seating" which means the main show is at the bottom and our jumbo TV doesn't work.)
Yesterday, however, was different. The stragglers came in the form of two kids, both under 11-years-old. They were riding scooters and were being followed by their pet chihuahua. I saw the smallest of the two slip in and out of the stadium, so I called Estella and told her that there was a situation. The kids didn't belong in the stadium as they neither paid, nor had any parental supervision - which, really boils down to, they didn't pay. After reporting the two thugs, Super came out and asked me how they were getting in. His solution had minimal effect.
However, knowing now that their entrance was jeopardized, the two thugs then started harassing me. Now that's a sight to see, ladies and gentlemen: Two kids, attempting to be tough to an adult. Normally, I strike fear into kids who piss me off because I can pretty ill tempered. However, yesterday, I was sick and I didn't want to deal with them. I only hoped the university police would pull in and I'd report their asses. I have little patience, as you can tell, for people who don't follow the rules. Which is strange, because I hardly follow the rules.
Later in the night, while Fred, Javi and I were putting in the barricades, three kids came up to us and told us that two kids on scooters were "telling us bad words, sir." The Scooter Gang had struck again, only know there were three of us in guard. I can't say I've seen the last of them; surely the scooter gang is still out there, plotting their revenge on parking lot 2.
Yesterday, however, was different. The stragglers came in the form of two kids, both under 11-years-old. They were riding scooters and were being followed by their pet chihuahua. I saw the smallest of the two slip in and out of the stadium, so I called Estella and told her that there was a situation. The kids didn't belong in the stadium as they neither paid, nor had any parental supervision - which, really boils down to, they didn't pay. After reporting the two thugs, Super came out and asked me how they were getting in. His solution had minimal effect.
However, knowing now that their entrance was jeopardized, the two thugs then started harassing me. Now that's a sight to see, ladies and gentlemen: Two kids, attempting to be tough to an adult. Normally, I strike fear into kids who piss me off because I can pretty ill tempered. However, yesterday, I was sick and I didn't want to deal with them. I only hoped the university police would pull in and I'd report their asses. I have little patience, as you can tell, for people who don't follow the rules. Which is strange, because I hardly follow the rules.
Later in the night, while Fred, Javi and I were putting in the barricades, three kids came up to us and told us that two kids on scooters were "telling us bad words, sir." The Scooter Gang had struck again, only know there were three of us in guard. I can't say I've seen the last of them; surely the scooter gang is still out there, plotting their revenge on parking lot 2.
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