Despite the fact that we were two guys reading aloud to each other in a park, things were going well. Then we got swarmed by ten-year-olds on their lunch-break, riding out the back-end of a sugar-filled field trip to the nearby Griffith Observatory.
(photo courtesy LA Times)It's amazing how far a box of Nerds can take you, when scattered 'at random' by a professional...
Anyway, after all that hullaballoo ran its course and the bambinos were herded back onto their school buses, emaciated teenagers of both sexes began trotting around in strange matching uniforms, oddly tolerating the unreasonable barks of some overweight, Napoleanic coach sitting in a low-rent camping chair. I overheard him telling those kids the following, as they diligently set up an obscurely-branded 10' x 20' pop-up tent under a tree:
"Alright, alright--let's move this into the shade. Come on! Okay...let's get those waters out there, and the Gatorade. Make sure you put the Gatorade next to the water--no--ON TOP OF the water--but make sure you drink BOTH today, guys. Seriously..."
It was quite distracting--and not in the good way you might be thinking (none of them were hot). By the time we were back in the zone, my buddy had to head off to an inconvenient job assignment. I say that like it was court-mandated or something, but it wasn't. Well...no--it wasn't. That's all I can say. Legally.
Our semi-productive day cut short, we trudged through several feet of sunshine, back to my glistening Lamborghini Countach.
On the way, I couldn't help but notice this:
A totally creepy guy hanging outside his serial-killer-issue van, dancing drunkenly to deafening, shitty country music, in broad daylight, at a high-school cross-country meet, just after a four-bus-load junior-high field trip finished eating their lunch.
ROCK ON, MAN!!!!!!!!
Right?
Wait--or is pedophilia not cool anymore?
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