Little Kids Are Fucking Retarded, Annoying

So this chubby faced little shit comes in and goes: "Um, the sign that says your hours doesn't have a.m. or p.m., so it's a little confusing." Then he drums his hands on the countertop for a few minutes, so that my anger, frustration, and annoyance has time to properly stew. Then I retort "I don't think many people think a store would open at ten p.m. and stay open for only an hour." Then he goes "oh," makes a few ape-like grunts of resignation, and then goes over to the Xbox games to continue his reign of terror/stupidity. And this kid wasn't some doe-eyed youngster, he was at least 12. After you turn ten, it's time to grow up and start being interesting.

After he was looking around the games he got into some kind of discussion (I don't understand moron) with his father, and then decided to check the drop box to see if he had returned a game. So he stands there, peering into the little slot looking for a game that he can't remember if he returned fifteen seconds earlier. So I dig in and bring out the contents of the basket: a "Spider-Man 2" DVD. No game. But he keeps peering. Either you returned it or you didn't, and you know which one you did. Looking down the slot isn't going to make the game appear if you didn't drop it off. Yeesh. I wish and hope for the miraculous: a giant crab hand to come shooting out of the return slot, ripping off this kid's face in an orgy of chaos and retribution. Sadly, this never comes.

Fucking kids.