A boy, probably ten, was reading my laptop over my shoulder at the coffee shop I was working at while his grandpa was in line for his Cappuccino. I wasn't for sure about him reading over my shoulder, but I did hear some of my words I was typing being quietly whispered out loud. When I'd turn over my shoulder I would see him looking at my screen and then looking at me and then a huge ten year old smile.
I like kids. I love kids. I want kids. Kids are great. But kids that are not great are ten year old boys that don't know that they shouldn't read over the shoulder over a twenty-six year old that is trying to write a story that uses the "F" word in it. Not that he saw the "F" word, but I should be able to type the "F" word in public if I want to type the "F" word. It's my right. I'm totally allowed to drop the "F". "F! F! F! F!" SEE!
So instead of just ignoring it or, of course, being an adult and turning around and saying something along the lines of: "Hi, you should be more polite and not read other people's business." I instead opened a new word document and in big bold letters wrote:
"YO, KID BEHIND ME... YEAH, YOU IN THE RED SWEATSHIRT READING THIS AS I TYPE IT. STOP BEING A BRAT. YOU'RE BEING RUDE.
He stopped. I could tell this because he looked at me when I turned around and as I smiled he slinked back towards his grandpa's side and didn't turn as he left nervously drinking his hot cocoa.
