(While standing in line as a customer, I notice a father and his two children in front of me. The son, about age 8, is sporting a
Mohawk about as tall is he is. He looks positively adorable and when he turns and smiles at me, I return the smile.)
Boy: *tugging on his fathers coat* “Daddy, don’t flash all that money in your wallet! That b**** will take it! You always say how b****es are after your money!”
(The father laughs and agrees until he notices that his son’s free hand is pointing directly at me. The daughter, about age 12, slaps him on the back of the head.)
Daughter: “Shut up, dumb ***! That b**** don’t want dad’s money!”
(The father starts to feel uncomfortable with so many people staring. Not wanting to reprimand their behavior but still wanting to make some parental effort, he starts lecturing his son about how his shoes are dirty. Another customer behind me comes to my rescue.)
Another customer: “If I were you, I’d be more worried about the dirt coming out of the other end of them!”
(The father falls silent, the children stop calling me a b****, and I get one of my blouses for free.)
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