I create context. I also write blog posts:

Today, I looked into the eyes of the devil…

Posted: June 5th, 2010 | Author: | Tags: , | 2 Comments »

And he tried to bite me.

That’s because, on this occasion, he was a four year old terrorizing the shop that I work in (no need to name names — it’s a nice one in the Hamptons). Woman walks in with her unbeknownst-to-us monster child. He’s grabbing at everything before he gets both feet in the door, and we’re trying to deal with his absent-minded mother (frankly, I think it’s “selective absent-mindedism”). Then he starts rolling some of the glasses we sell on the floor. “These are dirty! I hate this store!,” the little terror-monger told me.

ME

Well, don’t you like this one? It has a starfish on it. Have you ever seen a real starfish?

SATAN

I want to fight.

(At this point, I should promise you: I didn’t make any of this up.)

Suddenly, he began flailing around, dangerously close to pieces of china that cost more than I make in a week. I had no choice but to step in and try to catch his little flying fists. All the while mum can’t make up her mind about… well, I don’t know what. I was too busy babysitting the kid from “Problem Child” to know, but she was taking too long nonetheless.

He was a weak little miscreant though, and every time he charged, I covered my balls and held out my hand like a cow catcher on a steam engine. Invariably, he would fall over — hopefully scuffing his Ralph Lauren Polo (literally, it was a “polo uniform”) shirt — and then try again. He had the worst balance of any little kid I’ve ever met.

I had ushered him away from the china — and other customers — like a matador guides a bull when he threatened to bite me. Then he tried to bite me.

MOM

Hun, it doesn’t sound good over there!

SATAN

It’s ok, mom, I’m just fighting.

MOM

Okay! Dum-de-dum, I’m a moron!

Somehow, he managed to grab two pencils — I know, this is sounding like a prison fight — and came at me, holding them like a pair of sai (what do you want from me, I liked the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was a kid…). Again, make up for the lack of a cup and try to deflect the blow. I was getting fed up, and I started thinking about asking for hazard pay.

World’s Worst Mommy finally came over after completing her purchase — wisely taking a store poll whether or not she should hang out and find a Father’s Day present; it came back “nay” — and laid down the law:

MOM

Behave yourself or we’re not going to get ice cream!

His response? One more shot at my nads, which, thankfully, I deflected, all while wishing them both a good afternoon and trying to shake off any homicidal thoughts I had at that point.

“That kid’s going to hell,” I was whispering to my boss before the door was even closed shut. I was wrong. That kid had been to hell and he’d already conquered. It was Lucifer himself in my store today.

So I give up. I’m now in favor of leashes for children… and horse tranquilizers, too.

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