Recently I rediscovered an old love and it was purely by accident. I was out of town on a business trip and needed to do a little shopping. It went down something like this.
Setting: A retail store. A toddler with an inattentive mother was making quite a scene, screaming, pulling merchandise off the racks and, in general, being a brat. In the middle of this shopping nightmare, I looked at the salesgirl (at this store they're called "associates" which for some reason, cracks me up) and remarked that the child was a "noisy little bastard".
Now this is where it got good. The associate confirmed my suspicions by saying something to the effect of, "You wouldn't say that to her boyfriend." She obviously knew the mommy and "da baby-daddy".
"Boyfriend? Well, then the kid is a bastard," I stated calmly. "Come to think about it, there's a lot of little bastards around here lately."
Those words cut through the associate's heart like a knife through steamy shit. She didn't care for my explanation of the obvious.
"You are aware that bastards are children born out of wedlock, aren't you?" I said smugly, hiding behind my position of "the customer is always right".
"A lot of kids parents' ain't married," she said curtly. "My boyfriend and me ain't married and we got us two kids."
She was getting defensive, but proving my point at the same time. Since I didn't live in Bastardville, I figure I'm not going to see this lovely young lady again.
"Well, then by definition, you have some little bastards at home." Silence. "Thanks for your time".
Hairy Carrot doesn't want to take up space with all kinds of commentary describing the downfall of society on this blog. Beside, I'm sure those sorry little bastards are the light of her life.