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June 04, 2006
Damien
I met the anti-christ today. He was disguised as a 3-year old African American boy.
I worked out this morning, and afterwards grabbed the Sunday paper and took it next door to the Health Bar to chill out, read and consume some coffee. It was quiet and pleasant, only a few other people were in the restaurant.
A man sat down with a young child and ordered breakfast. His order included protein pancakes for himself and a smoothie for the kid. For the love of god, you NEVER order smoothies for anyone under the age of twelve. A 24 ounce sugar shake is just a bad idea.
I got through the first couple sections of the paper in relative peace, the calm before the storm. And. Then. I hear this uncontrollable giggling, followed by screaming. I keep my head in the paper so as not to make eye contact. Please go away, please go away.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice a flash of lightning, or what appears to be lightning. The screaming has now been redistributed to the other side of the restaurant. I lower my paper ever so slightly, and witness Speedy Gonzales blazing all over the place. Jesus, please don't come over to my table, please don't. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!," he yells as he jumps on my booth. Fuck, now I have to pretend like he's cute and adorable.
"Hi there," I wave.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"What's your name?"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Between screams, I swear I can hear him say, "Your mother sucks cocks in Hell."
He yanks the paper out of my hands, puts his head in my lap, screams, and promptly farts. "You are a disgusting foul creature," I want to say. I would have pepper sprayed the bitch if we were alone.
His baby daddy finally comes over to retrieve him, but not before he throws all of the sections of my paper onto the floor. "Leave the man alone," the daddy shouts. The kid hops off the booth, grabs the Travel section of the paper, throws it at me, laughs and jumps back up. I fake laugh, but I can't breathe from all the ammonia and hydrogen sulfide seeping out of Damien's ass. Is this beast still wearing a diaper?
He starts crumpling the Arts section. That's it, mini-Mephistopheles! Don't you dare fuck with the Arts section! Here, take the Sports page instead. Rip it to shreads, bitch. I don't care!
"Pick up the papers for the man." Yeah, Damien, pick up my papers. Instead, he head-butts my chest.
"He's quite a character," I tell the anti-christ's father. "Yeah, he's somethin'. Sorry about your papers." "It's okay." Not really. I wanted to add, "If we kill him now, we will save all of mankind. What do you think?" But I don't.
For some reason I start channeling Supernanny, and in a lame British accent I mumble, "Someone needs to go to his naughty mat." What? Where the fuck did THAT come from? I scared myself. But I was right. Somebody needed to discipline Rosemary's Baby. He DID need to go to his naughty mat, if his naughty mat was back in hell.
Damien notices two women eating peacefully nearby me. I can see the darkness in his eyes. The music to "Ave Satani" begins to play. A couple crows fly by outside. He's contemplating his next reign of terror. He leaps up and pounces on the poor women. I hear Daddy Damien apologizing to his latest victims.
I gathered my newspaper, finished my coffee and ran home. I took a long shower to wash the diabolism from my skin.
Satan's children are very different. Pure evil is in their eyes. They stalk their prey, and attack without warning.
The anti-christ is alive and well in America, folks. His name is Damien. And he likes smoothies.
Posted by durban bud at June 4, 2006 07:35 PM
Comments
Well before you condemn the child to hell for all eternity, remember that he is just a 3 year-old child. While he may be a complete and screaming mess (and trust me, I don't like children who get out of line in public... it grates on my last nerve) it really isn't the kid's fault... the real Damien is the... you guessed it... the PARENT.
Parents are the ones who teach kids what is acceptable social behavior. But whenever I see kids running WILD and screaming through stores I can't help but think... hmmm wonder what his parent(s) are doing? My parents ran a strict ship - we didn't run wild, mouth off or make a scene in public.
But they didn't hit us either. My parents were pacifists and yet still instilled order and discipline - without sacrficing their pacifist values and without smacking the shit out of us (the other unsettling behavior you see in public around here).
Point is - people who are parents need to get some balls and take care of their children. They need to discipline their kids the right way - which is more than just a "time-out"... and not an ass-kicking everytime they screw up (if you ride the MetroBus in DC long enough, you will see both extremes)
I feel bad for that kid... he's going to grow up a social mess just b/c Daddy is too busy eating his protein pancakes and cruising the muscle daddies...
Posted by: TOS at June 5, 2006 09:41 AM
Tos:
Please stop watching Dr. Phil.
He WAS the devil incarnate. And needs a good ass-whooping. Or tasered or something.
Posted by: durban bud at June 5, 2006 10:30 AM
Crackheads, whatever size they may be, should stay locked inside at all times.
I saw what could have been a similar situation at a nice, smart new CVS and was preparing for the worst, when the mother actually did her job! I was so shocked, expecting flinging of m&m bags between the kids and hissy fits and crumbling of parental control. And she remostated them correctly, not like that crackheaded bitch yelling at her daughter on my walk to work. Had I been more somnolent I would have yelled at her to shut up before I called the cops.
Dr. Phil is evil. Actually he needs to become unable to speak overnight, that would solve the problem.
Posted by: Carl at June 5, 2006 02:26 PM
Being around kids like Damien really is the most effective form of birth control. My ovaries turned to stone many years ago while working in a mall during the holiday season
Posted by: anger hangover at June 5, 2006 08:01 PM
I teach the little devils, so it is always crystal clear which kids have loving, fair parents who model appropriate behavior. So many kids are put on meds, when what they really need is better parents.
Posted by: Glenn at June 9, 2006 04:34 PM