Frattallone’s Ace Hardware

My husband dragged me in here last weekend (I don’t remember what he was looking for, but they didn’t have it). While I was admiring a display of women’s gardening gloves (I rent, so this was pointless browsing on my part), I overheard/​saw one of the teenage employees discussing adult subject matter with a non-​employee friend who was dressed in typical teenage boy fashion. I’m assuming his attempt was to look bad-​ass and urban, but since he looked like he’d fallen out of bed and into a Hollister clothes rack, the intended effect wasn’t exactly bad-​ass, you know.
I was this close *this close* to walking up to him and singing, «I see London, I see France, I see this boy’s underpants!»
But then I didn’t, because 1) that would have been pretty bitchy and 2) it was 1:45 in the afternoon and 3) I wasn’t drunk and 4) I’m strictly non-​confrontational when I’m sober, especially with strangers.
But yeah, the manager on duty needs to police the staff’s conversation. I don’t want to hear about the oral adventures of jailbait.

Bad selection, bad staff.