Suddenly realizing that George (my destructively hyperactive affenpinscher) had run out of dog food, I decided to take a quick trip to the corner liquor store - for one must not keep a hungry George waiting if one values one's sanity. No sooner am in the store than I am approached by a large thuggish individual and his mini-thug sidekick.
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Y'know my mother had a theory about scary-looking youth -- be they "thugs" or "punks" or what-have-you. When it all comes right down to it, they're kids. Which is not to say that there aren't some truly frightening people out there in the world, but for the most part, especially if they're still young, all that stuff is just so much affectation. She loved the puzzled looks -- followed quickly by appreciative looks -- whenever she struck up conversations with the meanest looking kids in the neighborhood, or even just treated them like human beings and not pond scum.
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And yeah he seemed somewhat disappointed that I was willing to talk to him. :-)
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