1.14.2007

Children on wheels: assurance of the encroaching apocalypse

I keep a list in my head of prevalent things that I feel are annoying and possibly harmful to society. I call it my “List of Prevalent Things That I Feel Are Annoying and Possibly Harmful to Society.” Apt title, I know. This list is extensive and regularly updated when I come upon something particularly infuriating.

It currently includes, but is not limited to, theater concession prices, Hummers (and people who drive them despite the oil crisis), Nick Nolte, energy drinks (they taste like expired cough syrup), MySpace, country music, people who use the word “tight,” Uwe Boll movies, the People’s Choice Awards, those furry boots that look as though a Neanderthal has stitched them together with the hides prehistoric animals, reality television, pre-ripped jeans, Gary Busey and Wal-Mart, just to name a few.

Recently, I have come into contact with something so terrifyingly annoying, I shudder at the very thought of the board meeting in which the idea for these evil items was conceived.

The suits, seated around a large wooden table, chat idly and sip their Red Bulls as the meeting is called into session by a large, sweaty executive, who has just finished harassing his secretary because she doesn’t dress “lady-like” enough.

Chuck, a young and spunky “go-getter,” is excitedly anticipating his newest product pitch. Sure, the skateboard-backpack was a lawsuit waiting to happen (children had an annoying tendency to roll right into oncoming traffic), the scooter-sweatshirt was immensely uncomfortable and reportedly caused scoliosis and the bike-treadmill was just asinine.

But Chuck came prepared to this meeting with an idea that’s going to make Furby and Tickle-Me-Elmo look like Tinker Toys. An idea for a product that will dominate both the toy and clothing market. He feverishly licks his lips as the other suits listen in, even going so far as to neglect their palm pilots for a precious few moments. Chuck knows the pitch, the product says it all.

“Roller shoes,” he says simply. “Shoes with retractable wheels.”

The meeting room is completely silent for a full six and-a-half minutes before the sweaty executive speaks, tears glittering in his eyes. “Get corporate on the phone. Now.”

Because screaming, restless children aren’t annoying enough, they have now become mobile, able to reach blistering speeds and coast the entire length of Costco.

I’m very curious as to who in the right mind would think, “Hey, my kids aren’t quite insanely stressful enough for me right now, I should put wheels on the bottom of their shoes and allow them to roam about in the aisles of grocery stores like feral, motorized monkeys.”

It’s gotten to the point where I simply assume that every child I see is capable of lowering wheels from his feet and rushing at me with the speed and grace of an out-of-control semi-truck.

How long until they begin forming street gangs, speeding around dangerously and hassling old ladies for their purses? Is it too far-fetched to think that rocket shoes are on the horizon? Can you even begin to imagine the chaos?

I loathe these accursed shoes with every fiber of my being. I can honestly say that if I were to witness a cataclysmic accident, in which a dozen-or-so of these wheeled hoodlums collided with one another, pitching headfirst through grocery displays and plate-glass windows, I would stand back and watch the carnage, shaking my head with a knowing grin.

4 comments:

  1. Is it sad and scary to say that my own siblings are undergoing unyielding desires to obtain aforementioned shoes? 'Cept their after the ones that have simply one non-retractable heel per shoe, and in order to roll in them requires a certain skill of balance, practice, athleticism, and dare I say, art? Perhaps not dangerously rolling about in Costco, but I can assure you, the numerous grocery store, restaurant, and mall rollings of said sibling is enough to compensate, yes?

    I can only imagine the chaos when the other sibling gets his sweaty hands on them. Perhaps that display of 1000 cans of tuna stacked precariously as a pyramid in aisle three will prove to be the end.

    Then again, who knows?

    Off topic: This, and the H.wood video topic made me laugh tremendously. Oh have I missed your sarcastic jerk-esque ways. ^-^

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  2. I couldn't agree more, my friend. I almost hit a kid in my neighborhood a few months ago who decided it would be a great idea to hide behind a parked car, then roll across the street as fast as possible in a game of pseudo-chicken with my 2,000-pound SUV.

    I stop the car, get out, and see the dad in the garage. I start to ask him if he's watching his kid, and he sticks his head out from under the hood of the car he's working on -- which, incidentally, completely blocks the view of the road for somebody forehead deep in an engine -- and starts yelling at ME, telling me that he was watching his kid, and that I shouldn't worry about him and his kid. That I should worry about driving.

    Needless to say, I just shook my head and walked away.

    Also needless to say, my son will NEVER own a pair of these.

    BTW: I just saw a trailer for 300, and am I weird for being unsure if I'm creeped out, if I want to see the movie, or possibly both?

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  3. I see one major flaw with this rant and that is that it points out the flaws in wheelie shoes and only the wheelie shoes. I mean these devices are nothing more then roller-skates that is capable of being hidden.

    If the wheelie shoes - I don't know what else to call them - were completely removed from all of time and space then the problem of kids wearing regular skates zooming into a moving car or brick wall would still exist.

    Now my theory is that children under the age of 15 are far too dangerous to even have around and should therefore be put a drug educed coma for a few years. Then after the agonizing rehabilitation from atrophied they should be a breeze to handle.

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  4. It's bad enough when they're kids, but I shit you not, I saw a guy that had to be in his late teens wearing roller-shoes today.

    The type of grown teenager that would wear roller shoes, just happens to be the type that would walk up to the drinking fountain, take a drink, and then spit it out through his teeth. I was enormously grossed out.

    ReplyDelete

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