Freedom Point: Part IV

More people arrive. They're in their pimped out Ford Escorts, Geos, and pick-ups, about six per car, slowly squeezing out one by one amidst the random assortment of the worst outdated rap songs blaring from speakers duct taped in the trunk. The ethnically impaired gatherers are taking a break from the night of “cruising”, circling the three or four blocks that make up the downtown area of Seymour. According to Chris, the local law states that passing any point three times in one night is a traffic violation that will get you a ticket if the police are watching. Apparently, it was only very recently instituted to cut down on “youth delinquency”.

There are also a bunch of ten year old looking kids running around. They mostly occupy themselves with the arcade games while the older kids hang around the pool tables. These older kids try to play and converse at the same time over the loud pop music playing on speakers of the dance floor, where some teenage kids dressed like pre-teen pop-stars just stand around, covered in mold-injected plastic earrings and bracelets.

I consider for a moment whether I should explain to them that a dance floor is for dancing, not standing around and staring off into space like a bunch of brain-damaged morons. It's like playing beer pong with juice instead of beer and still calling it beer pong. There's something not right about that. That's something that should never happen. That violates both social and linguistic conventions.