OK, well I didn’t actually hit him, but I thought about it, believe you me!
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was waiting in line for the haunted house ride at the South County Fair in Rhode Island.
He wouldn’t stop crying. He was ruining the experience for everyone, so I took the law into my own hands.
I was waiting patiently and there he was, right in front of me. “Wah wah wah!” He was about 4 years old and if I thought he was in pain or whatever, I would have cut him a break but it was a hot, summer day and he was clearly just being a brat.
So this little bastard is sucking on a chocolate ice cream cone and waving it around, inches from my face. If I hadn’t ducked several times, I would have been covered in ice cream and little kid drool.
Before you got on the ride, they’d shut out the lights for about 3 seconds to scare everyone. Well, the lights went out and I grabbed his cone out of his slimy hands and plopped it right on his head.
Or so I thought. It was big and round but it wasn’t his head. It was his mom’s ample boob.
You see, this time, the lights only went out for a second. It may have even been less. So there was his ice cream cone, my hand and her juggs, just sitting there.
Well, to my surprise, instead of being mad, she smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Lindsay.”
And that’s how I met my girlfriend.
Oh, the kid later died. His name was Jamie or Pete or something.