“Stay cool, stay cool,” you whispered to yourself as terrifying thoughts about what mean comments the teens could make as you passed them flashed through your head. “They probably haven’t noticed that your eyebrows are uneven, and how could they possibly know about your irritable bowel syndrome.”
“Shit! I think one of them just nudged another one and nodded their head toward me while smiling that mean sardonic teenager smile. Shit! Shit! Shit!,” added you, a former hockey enforcer who loves adventure sports for the adrenaline rush.
Witnesses say the teens in the group are not overly large and have not done anything to threaten anyone, but that hasn’t stopped everyone else in the Mall from giving them as wide a berth as possible out of fear and deference to their power, like commoners in 18th century England walking in the gutter so as not to intrude on the path of a nobleman.
Unfortunately you did not notice the group until it was too late as you were busy trying to see if you’d been overcharged on the slacks you just bought at the Gap because again, you’re an adult, so you’ve begun a path straight for them and now they are all watching you with their evil teenage eyes and their cool middle part teenage hair.
“What if they make fun of my posture. Or my shoes. Or the fact that when I walk my arms swing a bit too much. Or maybe they’ll just skip insults and go straight to flushing my head in the toilet,” you wondered.
At press time one of the teens had complimented your new pants with seeming sincerity, and you’d walked away feeling like a million bucks until a gale of laughter made you realize what had actually just transpired.