Leave Me Alone, Retard.

I'm a quiet fellow. I mind my own business. An introvert. Loner. I like to do things by myself and prefer to not have to work in a large group. I was born this way. It happens. It's natural.

As I am, I often venture out into the world - on my own - to places like restaurants, bookstores, and the grocery store. I go in with my mentally or physically prepared lists (or no list, if in case of the bookstore), get what I need, have a brief checkout/chat process with the cashier, and then get on my way. Years of experience have taught me how to properly time my endeavors and what coversations I will need to be prepared for.

Normally, I care not for idle chit-chat about things like the weather, professional sports (the bane of my existence), or popular TV (Survivor, the Biggest Loser, etc.). In fact, it bores me and the longer it goes on the more of an idiot the other person becomes for not being able to notice I'm politely ignoring what is being said - and not propogating the conversation further. Idle chit chat is a time waster and a faux way of pretending your life doesn't suck as bad as it really does. Thus, idle chit chat need not exist for me. Nor for anyone.

Including retards.

And yes, I mean the handicapped. People who where helmets and kneepads to go for a walk. People with a clubbed foot, cleft lip and an IQ below 95 that need someone to keep an eye on the amount of saliva pooling up on the floor. The 57 year old that works as a grocery bagger and isn't allowed to have a drivers license. The stammering, slobering, slightly-smelling-of-excrement autistic kid who couldn't figure out the Dewey Decimal System but he's not retarded he's "unique" (just like everyone else) so he's entitled to a job shelving returned books at Border's. Those retards.

To those retards, I have one request: stop talking to me.

Don't ask me if I have kids when you are bagging diapers. Don't ask me if I'm having a party when I've just purchased a handle of whiskey. And if I've ordered a combo meal then yes, I did want (in fact, expected) fries to come with it - so don't ask.

I feel for you. I really do. If I believed in God I'd curse him too for making you in his image. But sexually harassing the one good looking woman at Safeway isn't helping your cause. In fact, that's why you shouldn't be allowed in public unsupervised.

And to the parents/guardians/daykeepers of these vocal monsters please do us all a favor: keep your feel-good project under control. If I caught an employee making moronic or harrasing remarks to anyone in my place of business (in open daylight, nonethless) they would be out the door in seconds. Just becasue little Kenny's 16 year old retarded hormones are, you know, dysfunctional doesn't forgive his persistent left hand in his pants. And if I'm eating alone it's because I came here alone, want to eat alone, and will quietly pay my bill and leave, alone. I don't want anyone tapping me on the shoulder, asking me how I am, where my friends are, and what my name is while drooling in my rice bowl, then making me feel guilty because I want some peace to myself.

Shut the fuck up, retards. Leave me alone.