Not so good on the cause and effect side of things

I was blithely going about my work when two young men came in. Being as I am not entirely bereft of gorm, the mental antennae went to full quiver. Let's face it, men in the first blush of adulthood are bloody immature assholes. Perhaps if I was allowed to apply a cattle-prod to their genitals on a proactive, educational basis to drain some of the mouthy swagger of them they wouldn't be such a vexing consumer group, but alas, it's considered more civilized to let them behave as uncouth twerps immune from effective censure.

As predicted, they had those cocksure smirks of arrogant dismissal for everything they surveyed after entering the door. Ah yes, they've seen it all so many times in their long and varied lives. Vapid bastards. It was however a pleasant surprise that at least one offered his ID without being prompted. I'm not stupid, I checked it. Sometimes the under-aged will attempt to bluff their way by offering their ID under the premise that they have to be old enough to be in here if they're offering ID, therefore they'll score a pass on actually getting checked. Pretty crafty logic for snot-nosed cretins actually. I just love the look on their face when I accept the offer and calmly inform them that they're too young to be on the premises. It's like that blink of disbelief watching blood welling from a wound after they'd just sneered, "You ain't got the guts." Priceless.

Sadly, they were chronologically aged to meet minimum requirements. I was going to be stuck with at least a few minutes of posturing and the slanted pseudo-respect that passes for suave wit at that age. Unless of course, the heavens might smile upon me and one of them would say something outrageously stupid or defamatory.

I had endured the first volley of crap questions, defused the ineptly framed attempts to get me to say something provocative or prurient, and was rapidly adopting the expression of "bored contempt for babbling morons" when I hit the jack-pot.

One of the swaggering by-blows asked in volume audible to the whole store if we carried anything for marijuana. No euphemisms. No slang.

It was beautiful.

I kicked them out the door immediately.

The crowning glory was one bitching to his buddy as they're sulking to the doors that his disbelief he was thrown out of a porn store.

So sorry to disappoint you sport, but we have standards.