So, last Friday, after an intense session of D and D (Dungeons and Dragons to the uninitiated), my role-playing buddies and I head out to the Chinese buffet for a leisurely meal. They were pretty busy when we first got there, but it had started to thin out a little bit. About halfway through our meal, a group of people walked in. Here’s the rundown. There was the Gangsta/Thug Wannabe (hereinafter known as GTW). He was about 17ish,  wearing a crooked ball cap, jeans and a t-shirt.. He had that cocky, swaggering tough-guy walk and attitude. He talked in that “I’m a really white guy who’s never seen a real-live African –American but this is what I think they sound like“ kind of way. Accompanying him were his girlfriend, younger brother (I’m assuming) and mother. The girlfriend was also about 17 and kind of pretty in a mousy kind of way. The younger brother obviously looked up to his older bro. He imitated him in dress and attitude, but he talked normally and took his cap off when he ate. The mom was sort of semi-white trashy looking, if you know what I mean, but seemed nice enough. So this is how it goes.

The group enters the restaurant and approaches a table near ours.

GTW: That’s bullsh*t, man, it ain’t a concealed weapon if it’s in my pocket, man!

The girlfriend makes some comment too low for us to hear.
After they sit and make their drink orders, GTW goes to the bathroom. When he comes out, someone at our table looks at him. GTW scowls and sits down at his table.

GTW: Dat ass****’s gonna say sumthin, and Ah’m gonna bust his ass!

Mom makes some comment too low for us to hear.

They proceed to the buffet, and I also head there for my second plate.

GTW’s girlfriend: Oooh, Jeremy, there’s fruit over here!

GTW: Ah don’ need no f**kin’ bananas, man. Ah don’ need no f**kin’ bananas!

GTW’s mom: Jeremy, watch your language!

GTW’s girlfriend: Oooh, Jeremy, here’s some sweet and sour sauce!

GTW: Ah don’ need no f**kin’ sweet and sour sauce, man!

We left shortly afterwards, so I’m not sure how this delightful family dinner ended, but I’m sure it was fun. Thinking back on this later, I decided there were a few things I wanted to say to each of them, so here it goes.

To GTW:
1. It is indeed a concealed weapon if it is in your pocket.
2. You are a white boy in one of the whitest counties in Indiana. Face reality!
3. Inserting the f-word into your sentences does not make you sound tough. It just makes you sound immature.
4. Start being a better example for your brother.
5. Stop calling your girlfriend “man.”

To GTW’s girlfriend:
You seem like a nice girl. Surely you can do better than GTW. Just check out what’s out there before you commit yourself to him.

To GTW’s brother:
I’m sure you look up to your brother, but you don’t have to imitate him in everything. You showed admirable manners in removing your cap before you ate, so I think there’s hope for you yet.

To GTW’s mom:
GTW needs more discipline than an occasional “watch your language.”

I know, of course, that I have no right to say any of this to these people in reality, so that’s why I’m getting it out of my system here! I feel better now.