The wife and I walked our little one to the park today for her first visit to Riverbank Park. Here are a couple colorful statements we overheard during our visit:
"Stop fuckin' bitin'"
- A fifteen-ish girl to a boy about five years her junior, approximately 1.7 seconds before she bodyslammed him to the earth.
"We should probly lock it [the car]. There's booze in there, and little kids are in the park."
- A leather-throated man sporting a scruffy beard and Nascar t-shirt, to his picnic partner.
In other news, I modestly suggest an addition to Westbrook lexicon: Paper City Picnic. Now, like the Paper City Trifecta (grub at Don's Lunch, three games at Colonial Bowling Center, and a nightcap at Mill Side Tavern), the Paper City Picnic relies heavily on the gastro muscles. Specifically, it includes a choice parking spot along the Presumpscot, an unrelenting car engine, and takeout from McDonald's.
- John C.L. Morgan
P.S. To view a tamer recollection of life at Riverbank, click here.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment