NOTE: If you are easily offended by offensive things then please go somewhere else. I suggest or, you wuss!


Thursday, January 11, 2007

This Is MY House ...

... it's been almost four years that I've been doing the Harry Potter club. We do it once a month. It's loud and messy and loud and crazy and incredibly fun and loud. I started off being forced to do it and having 0-3 kids show up. We thought about quitting the damn thing numerous times. That's entirely due to our old community relations lady who hated me and forced me to maintain a very strict club that only allowed boys as members and assigned homework to its members. Now I get 10-25 kids a month and its crazy mad as all hell and hands down the coolest kids club in town.

However, due to a scheduling conflict, a 10 author discussion and signing was scheduled in my children's department. And two of the authors were the daughters of some rich ass greek land developer that apparently owns most of downtown and may or may not have mob ties. And so the store bent to their needs and 75 to 80 rich white people came in for an ostentatious "networking" book signing about vacationing in Greece and they did it in MY kids section, forcing me to have my 11-kid Harry Potter club meeting in the back of the store between audio books and magazines.

But that bookstore, it is MY house! MY HOUSE!!! Ain't no greek bastards kicking me out of MY house without a fight!

So, at the beginning of the meeting, this is exactly what I told my Potter kids ...

"I don't want you kids to feel any different because we're doing our meeting out here. In fact, I want you kids to be ten times louder. Fifteen times louder! In fact, I want you kids to be SO loud that I want one of the rich high income architect people to come over here and complain."

And god were they loud! Damn they were insane. They were twenty times louder than they ever were before. And I started the club about ten minutes late so as to assure we would run late and therefore run over the beginning of the signing. And right as I started to pick raffle numbers to signal the end of the meeting, this rich white haired botox whore wearing a fur fucking coat came and said "I'm sorry. I don't mean to interrupt the little 'meeting' you guys are having but we're having a book signing and we can hear everything you guys are saying."

The kids started yelling at her, saying "HEY! WE should be in the kids section!" and "We have this every month!" but I shooshed them. I told the lady as polite and as kurt as I could that I had two minutes left and the more I was interrupted the longer it was going to be. When she left one of the kids loudly said "Oh no, they complained! Will you get fired, Steve?"

Once the lady left, I called the kids into a little huddle and quietly whispered "Kids, that was so totally awesome. That is exactly what I wanted to happen. Sweet! That was totally rock and roll. Give yourselves a round of applause."

How punk rock star is that?

Marisa says that I probably shouldn't be, as she put it, "teaching the kids how to hate." But that's what happens when they try to kick me out of my house.


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