Live public service announcements! What will they think of next!?

Tonight the kids had a scavenger hunt in the mall. Sylvia and I decided to grab a bite to eat while we waited for them to run around and get Burger King crowns, applications for employment, shopping bags, and Jimmy Hoffa's pocket watch. (we live in a rough neighborhood-plus, I know a guy)

Anyway, we sat at a table for four. I sat next to Sylvia (pause for the "that's sweet" and "ahhh's" to die down) and ordered our drinks, an appetizer, and started to hear the PSA.

These two gentlemen were sitting perpendicular to our table separated by a half wall. The unfortunate layout of this restaurant, which for legal purposes I will not name but it rhymes with Bed Bobbin and could be called the Crimson Bird of Spring, made it so their conversation was ours as well. Had he made a quarter turn with his head he could have whispered sweet nothings into my darling bride's ear. Well he could have except that I am almost certain that he was genetically incapable of anything quieter than "I FORGOT THAT YOU CAN'T HEAR THE MUSIC ON MY IPOD BECAUSE ONLY I AM WEARING HEADPHONES!"

I figured, I am with Sylvia, we are going to enjoy our time, I can deal with loud. I do, however, have a hard time dealing with loud crap. For those of you who have taken to heart the phrase, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." you may want to stop reading now and try again another day. For those of you who end that saying with,"...come sit by me!" Pull up a chair.

Well this clown starts by talking about how he is the best freestyle rapper ever and that no one can "lay down sweet rhymes" like he can. If he wanted to, he could "bust out 4 and a half minutes of pure gold" right there. But his rhymes are his "intellectual property" and "big word" this and "even bigger word used incorrectly" that, and blah blah blah. Swear swear blah de blah... You get the idea.

Now as an aside, I do not put a lot of stock into looks in terms of your profession. If the kid with the jewelry in his face treats me with the respect I try to earn from him, then we get along famously. If the guy in the tuxedo is being a jerk, then he is a jerk. Having said that, I somehow feel it is wrong for a self-proclaimed king to the freestyle rappers to look like Pee Wee Herman and Art Garfunkel somehow had a love child. I understand that I am being shallow, but he brought it on himself. (Art Garfunkel was the Caucasian, afro wearing other half of Simon and Garfunkel. Google his pic and think "rapper?". Also, I am NOT old!)

Back to my story. Looks and swearing aside, he then begins to tell a story about a "smokeout" he had with his boss. His female boss decided to get some meth so she would have the energy to do something for work. He was worried about getting paid for part of the drugs and she forgot her wallet and "drug phrase" this and "drug phrase with swearing" that and you get the idea again. Then he moved into other people who have also tried to cheat him while partaking of his own private chemical depository and he was none too pleased about it. He said in a much more colorful way and I wished I could have DVR'd the conversation so I could replay it and then relay the special nuances, but alas.

Then, he started talking about his skills as a lethal weapon. He had studied all over the country and continued to go right to the brink of having to register himself as a lethal weapon and then quit. He was going to do this until "they" caught on to him and put him away.

Now remember, there are two people here. Otherwise this paranoid drug dealing rapper would have been talking to himself. He might as well have been because the Lenny to his Squiggy was doing nothing but nodding and urging him on with the occasional monosyllabic filler. I have now decided that the only thing worse than listening to someone who is full of crap, is to watch someone hang onto every word of crap like it was truth from on high. It was truly amazing.

It continued like this for quite a while and Sylvia, the little trooper, was doing a good job at not laughing. Good thing, we were sitting within the strike zone of this multi-disciplinarial (I know it's not a word) killing machine. They ended up leaving before we did and then it hit me. I wish the kids were there to see this. This was the best anti drug ad I had ever seen! Not only would they have been scared away from drugs in the present, I am sure this anti-drug message would have been powerful enough to last a lifetime!