Thursday, March 24, 2005

Expect The Unexpected Raspberry Terrorism

Yesterday, while I was busy helping a mother find the foreign language book "Shakespeare to English/English to Shakespeare; the Romeo & Juliet edition", I heard someone reading aloud at the front of the store. I assumed it was one person reading to another and that was that. I found the book the mother was looking for and proceeded to the front of the store still hearing the muttering of someone reading out loud. I looked around and saw a small woman reading Stephen King's The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon (pop-up version). I noticed the young woman was obviously one of "special needs" and thought to myself, "how sweet, she's reading; you go girl!" and went back to helping other customers.

A few moments later I hear the reading becoming louder. Obviously the dialogue was getting a little too exciting for this young lady as I could no longer hear the Jazz music over her assiduous reading. A few people started to stare and snicker at the young lady so in an attempt to save her from any impending embarrassment, I approached her, smiled, and put my finger to my lips and said "shhhhh...quiet voices in the bookstore, hon." At first she looked stunned and said, "ok, I'm sowwy" like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. As I walked away to help a customer at the cashwrap I heard more mumbling and I figured she was still reading. At this time the mumbling I now heard had turned to loud crying. Needless to say I felt like shit for saying anything; that is, until I looked up from ringing up the transaction to see that this 'special needs' lady was shooting me an evil look. Her face was a nice shade of red fury and she proceeded to put her forearm up to mouth to make an offensive farting noise and shout at me "YOUR NOT MY MOTHER!" THWWWWWWAPFT! " I stared back at her and said "Damn straight girly, now read quietly!" "THWWWWWWWWWWPFT, YOUR NOT MY MOTHER, THWWWWWWWWWWWPFT!!!" I was hoping that Corky would come by and get his wife; hell, at this point even the site of Norman Bates picking up his daughter would have been a relief.

Not being familar with the traditional way to offend someone by way of the raspberry offense, she continued to slobber against her arm. Once she reached the tipping point of beyond obnoxious, her arm, along with the Tom Gordon book, was dripping wet. I told her I would have to call security to have her escorted out the store if she couldn't behave. She proceeded to leave the store, only to stand out front of the entrance and start again with the arm-raspberry terrorism with additional shouts of maternal denial. Now I'm pissed. She sees Security walk by and runs away and I explain to security that she is "special, take it easy on her--but, she's annoying the fuck out of me. Please tell her not to comeback to bookstore."

After about 10 minutes had passed, I scolded myself for not being more compassionate towards the young lady. Afterall, she was only reading REALLY loud and who was I to ask her to read more quietly? "God, I'm such a bitch!" I thought to myself. I continued on with tasks and customer service when all of the sudden I hear someone pounding on my window at the store front. I look up and see the offender. She stares the evil stare, pounds on the window again and shouts "Your NOT MY MOTHER!! THWWWWWWWWWWAFPT!" She proceeds to stick her finger up her nose, digging deeply like she's fucking excavating King Tut's tomb, and then smears her fucking retard-boogers on the glass! One final--"THWWWWWWWWWWFPT!!" and then runs like a handicapped demon out of hell. I call security to have the little wench promptly escorted from the mall and then in an act of retribution that only comes when payback is in order, I take Stephen King's little pop-up book and return it to the publisher as not to attract any further episodes of 'special needs storytime' in the bookstore. The End, goddamnit.