Butch, Chastity and the No Chance Kid.
No one really knows what HEB stands for. Its a grocery store chain in Texas. Butch was there over his lunch hour for some coffee and chewing tobacco. The closest one is two blocks from his office on 8th and Harris; the middle of downtown. Its not up to the standard of the HEB stores in the better neighborhoods, but its seldom as busy either. It just carries the essentials and that's all Butch ever went in for anyway.
As he approached the 3 active checkouts he did what everyone else probably does: look for the shortest line with the baskets with the fewest goods ahead of him, makes a quick assessment and joins the perceived quickest line. There was only one basket ahead of him and they were just setting a their last item on the counter as he approached. Short wait for sure. He perused the magazine covers and contemplated buying a Hershey Almond bar, which he successfully resisted. A good amount of time passed before he realized the line wasn't moving.
"Oh crud"., he thought to himself. "another price check or maybe one of those who can't find their food stamps". He looked up from the Cosmopolitan and glanced toward the cash register.
The clerk was just standing there. Everything was bagged up, but she was just standing there, waiting.
Butch scanned to the customer, a foreign looking youngster with his back to him, talking to someone.
"Hey how about it. You going to checkout or stand there jacking your jaws all day?"
The youth turned around and faced him.
"I was talking to my mother you f---!"
He looked to be maybe middle teens. No visible tattoos or pants hanging around his ankles, but youthful, with attitude.
"I don't care who you are talking to. Talk later after you've checked out. There are people waiting here. In this country we don't keep people waiting!"
"I'm going to f------ checkout" , he said swiping his card.
"But you can shut the f--- up if you know what's good for you", he said.
"Oh my my! Listen to that mouth. Look at that upbringing. In this country we don't speak to one another that way. In this country we try to have consideration and show respect for one another"
"I'll cuss all I want to! f---f----f----f----f----"
"Its none of my doing", said the woman.
The cashier and bagger and everyone around started looking for possible escape routes.
"You leave my mother out of it motherf------!"
"In this country we most certainly don't just start cussing at people we don't know."
His mother whispered something to him.
"You think I'm a Mexican?, he screamed.
"Son, I don't know what you are. I know what you are not.", Butch replied.
His mother said to the kid: "Don't sink to his level", Just cool it."
"Oh. He's already well past my level Lady"
As they walked to the door the kid continued with the epithets with his mother coaxing and pulling him out the door, leaning back in as he went to yell the last insult in before disappearing to the parking lot.
"Now there is a naughty little boy, and one disadvantaged with a stunted vocabulary. Get me a pack of Redman over there will you Hon. The one in the green package...There, that's it"
Butch finished checking out and walked into the parking lot.
As luck would have it their car was parked right in front of his.
As Butch walked toward his car the kid was putting the groceries in his back seat. Upon seeing butch he slammed the door and strutted toward him.
"Go ahead. Say something f-----."
"Don't sink to his level Son. Just be calm", the mother chimed.
"You're the one doing all the talking." Butch replied as he brushed by and clicked the remote.
He climbed in, started the engine, waiting for the kid to give him the finger and wondering if the kid was expecting the same from him.
They simply exchanged hard looks as Butch drove away.
On the way back to the office Butch welled in self satisfaction thinking the kid was only a few more four letter words away from the slammer.
"Prisons are full of punks like that.", he mused.
"Yeah. And they got there by killing dumb chastising simpletons like you over something as simple as a very avoidable altercation in a supermarket. Graveyards should have a special section for people like you Butch. Lessee' 'Big Mouths like Butch and People who Failed the GED. '
"Whaa.."
Someone was talking to him. He looked out through the tobacco streaked side window. There was no one running beside the car. He turned to the passenger window, half expecting to see someone there.
"He would have to be on a bicycle to be going this fast." There was no one there either.
He checked the rear-view mirror. No one in the back seat. It came from the back of his brain.
"Hey Dummy. Its me again."
"Its none of my doing", said the woman.
The cashier and bagger and everyone around started looking for possible escape routes.
"You leave my mother out of it motherf------!"
"In this country we most certainly don't just start cussing at people we don't know."
His mother whispered something to him.
"You think I'm a Mexican?, he screamed.
"Son, I don't know what you are. I know what you are not.", Butch replied.
His mother said to the kid: "Don't sink to his level", Just cool it."
"Oh. He's already well past my level Lady"
As they walked to the door the kid continued with the epithets with his mother coaxing and pulling him out the door, leaning back in as he went to yell the last insult in before disappearing to the parking lot.
"Now there is a naughty little boy, and one disadvantaged with a stunted vocabulary. Get me a pack of Redman over there will you Hon. The one in the green package...There, that's it"
Butch finished checking out and walked into the parking lot.
As luck would have it their car was parked right in front of his.
As Butch walked toward his car the kid was putting the groceries in his back seat. Upon seeing butch he slammed the door and strutted toward him.
"Go ahead. Say something f-----."
"Don't sink to his level Son. Just be calm", the mother chimed.
"You're the one doing all the talking." Butch replied as he brushed by and clicked the remote.
He climbed in, started the engine, waiting for the kid to give him the finger and wondering if the kid was expecting the same from him.
They simply exchanged hard looks as Butch drove away.
On the way back to the office Butch welled in self satisfaction thinking the kid was only a few more four letter words away from the slammer.
"Prisons are full of punks like that.", he mused.
"Yeah. And they got there by killing dumb chastising simpletons like you over something as simple as a very avoidable altercation in a supermarket. Graveyards should have a special section for people like you Butch. Lessee' 'Big Mouths like Butch and People who Failed the GED. '
"Whaa.."
Someone was talking to him. He looked out through the tobacco streaked side window. There was no one running beside the car. He turned to the passenger window, half expecting to see someone there.
"He would have to be on a bicycle to be going this fast." There was no one there either.
He checked the rear-view mirror. No one in the back seat. It came from the back of his brain.
"Hey Dummy. Its me again."
"Whaa.."
"Your common sense Sherlock."
Well, where were you when I needed you?", Butch thought back.
"Me? I beat it out of there when I saw everyone around starting to duck for cover. How do you know what that kid was capable of? Yelling at him like that. That's certainly no way to avoid someones bad side. You asked for it and he showed it to you. Your impatience could very well have cost us our lives. You took a big chance. In a good neighborhood you may have just taken a punch. In that neighborhood? How many times do you think you can get away with that before someone blows us away? That kid could have been a gang banger, maybe an off-balance soldier just back from the killing fields in Iraq or Afghanistan, or maybe just pissed off in general because his girlfriend cut him off. Whatever. Certainly his state of mind was an unknown, but you failed to consider that and began arrogantly chastising him. And what did you gain from it? Absolutely nothing. And what did you risk for the price of a few seconds wait? Absolutely everything. I'm telling you right now because the next time I will again be in hiding while you are in process of getting us stabbed. Don't ever do that again Doofus! You owe that kid for handing you a free lesson. Now lets get back to work. I need a break."
"Me? I beat it out of there when I saw everyone around starting to duck for cover. How do you know what that kid was capable of? Yelling at him like that. That's certainly no way to avoid someones bad side. You asked for it and he showed it to you. Your impatience could very well have cost us our lives. You took a big chance. In a good neighborhood you may have just taken a punch. In that neighborhood? How many times do you think you can get away with that before someone blows us away? That kid could have been a gang banger, maybe an off-balance soldier just back from the killing fields in Iraq or Afghanistan, or maybe just pissed off in general because his girlfriend cut him off. Whatever. Certainly his state of mind was an unknown, but you failed to consider that and began arrogantly chastising him. And what did you gain from it? Absolutely nothing. And what did you risk for the price of a few seconds wait? Absolutely everything. I'm telling you right now because the next time I will again be in hiding while you are in process of getting us stabbed. Don't ever do that again Doofus! You owe that kid for handing you a free lesson. Now lets get back to work. I need a break."
