The other night at Target, I believe I witnessed the downfall of society - and I didn't even realize it until it was gone.
The girlfriend and I went to Target - or Targé as the dullards among us continue to call it because they think it's funny.
Hehe, did ya see what'd I'd id thure Rupert, I done make it Frenchie like, hehehe.
Anyway, I needed a tie rack and the girlfriend needed a picture frame and we have mutually agreed not to go to Wal-Mart unless absolutely necessary because it raises my blood pressure too much, so to Target we went.
We are walking around, the girlfriend studiously searching for what she wants and me absent-mindedly watching the people, when I spot this teenager, whose name I believe was Damien McDevilspawn.
This 12-year-old manchild is sporting huge spikes in both ears, a black concert T-shirt that said "(blank) you," black baggie jeans, tennis shoes adorned with metal- spiked studs and a Slipknot (it's a band) belt.
To top off the outfit, this "model citizen" has an iPod earbud jammed into one ear and is lumbering around the store with this swagger that screams, "Look at me, talk to me or smile in my vicinity and I will go O.J. on your ass."
I should mention at this point that I have no idea about Damien's intelligence or personality and yes I am judging solely based on appearance. However, if I'm wrong, then Damien is aware that demeanor and style are causing a reaction and is doing it on purpose, so I don't feel bad.
Anyway, next to this "poster child for Prozac" is his mother. A frumpy woman who just looks tired, like she has been fighting the same battle for a loooooooong time and has just conceded.
As I watched her child suddenly break into a head-banging session, I wondered what she could have been struggling against that appears to have drained her will to live.
Hmmmm, quite an enigma there.
In my fascination with Damien, I began to watch his interaction with the world.
Damien was abrupt and downright rude to the parents and just looking for a fight. I don't know where this angst was coming from. All this anger despite the fact that Damien was obviously listening to good wholesome music - like The Platters or The Kingston Trio, whatever the kids are into these days.
Then, it happened. The girlfriend and I were in the checkout line and Damien's family was two lines over. I leaned over to the girlfriend and said, "He's probably a beautiful person on the inside."
The girlfriend, who is a better person than me and wasn't fascinated by him, looked at me and said:
"That's a girl."
No. It's no ... Oh my God it is. No freakin' way.
In my defense, had it not been for the slight pronouncement that indicated breasts, there would have been no way to tell - apparently Damien already had a name.
Pat.
That's how I know the downfall of society is near - we are evolving from men and women into one super-being that I have named "the moman."
But now the only question I have is, was that really his/her mom or was that his/her mom-dad?
Ever met a gender-neutral? Tell me about it on the Party of One blog at www.nevadaappeal.com/partyofone
• Jarid Shipley is the Features Editor for the Nevada Appeal. Contact him a jshipley@nevadaappeal.com or 881-1217.