Damn Kids

Damn kids.

You made me feel old. You made me feel old. Because I had to go outside my place of work and figure out what group of dummie-dum-dums was throwing tiny annoyinf firework poppers out the damn window, then march up to their room, 510, and confiscate their silly little fireworks, tell them this was their “last warning” and advise them that, yes, [poppers in Golden Gate Park = OK funny], [fireworks thrown from our hostel = OK you’re kicked to the kerb]. Anymore of that and they’re out. What’s worse is we don’t even know their names, don’t have their passport numbers because someone didn’t take them. They could be anybody’s dumb 18 year-old cousins. And guess what? Being an adult isn’t so bad. At least I’m not sitting around bored pestering strangers on a level not far above cow-tippin’ in one of the greatest cities this side of the Prime Meridian.

They come to check out tomorrow, ask for their ID.
They act smug or smirk too much, mention the cow-tipping
And if they make you feel like a lame grownup, just remember that you pay your own rent and live in an awesome town and hey, you can drink beer… legally!

♥Orin


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