Food For Thought

Wannabe

He strutted down the street with an air of invincibility, him against the world. A pretty young girl undulated past him; he winked at her and turned to watch her retreating backside with an admiring chuckle. The word ‘attractive’ would have come to mind had his brain been able to process it, so instead he settled for a much cruder variant. With another chuckle he put his hands in the pockets of an oversized pair of jeans that were hanging precariously on his hips and continued on his way, him against the world.

His parents had named him John but he called himself Jonnie Boy, a name he found absolutely cool. Jonnie Boy walked to his and his friends’ latest hangout. Upon arrival his friends greeted him in the latest slang that only they seem to understand. Slang words were the norm but they couldn’t string together a constructive sentence in any language…well, other than the one they created.

They caused a bit of a ruckus, irritating many shoppers with their loud talk of girls, what they would like to do to and with them, the latest cars, movies, songs…you know how the story goes, loud obnoxious teens that sneer at or even insult anyone who dares attempt to chastise them.

The Posse, as Jonnie Boy and his friends called themselves, moved on to another popular haunt and then another, thus spending their day without a single constructive enterprise, spending relatively large amounts of money that they’d managed to wheedle out of their parents. They lived their lives for the entertainment industry in all its forms. They could name all the famous names and rattle off their statistics but had no clue what a Bunsen burner was.

Reading a sensible book was too much of a strain so they settled for the tabloids. Half the time they were the ones in these tabloids…sex on the beach, at a street bash, in a parking lot…they were like rabbits, sex anywhere, at anytime. And these children are our future?