So I'm at the gas station waiting to fill up because this one place is the absolute cheapest around. At least .10 cheaper than anyone else. I'm in line behind two younger urban kids. She; dressed very nicely in a stylish pair of bluejeans, ankle boots, sweater, nice hair and makeup. Him? Okay supa-fly. He is about 110 lbs. soaking wet wearing 2 t-shirts with I think more glitter than a brownie troop has in their craft box, decidedly more chains than all 4 of my pit bulls have, and jeans big enough for me and him to get into hanging down around his knees. He has on a braided belt (what good it's doing I have NO idea) Are they wearing belts around the knees now? I can't keep up. So he gets the trash out of the back seat of her car, bends over and down go the jeans he's pulled up for the 10th time AGAIN! This time when they go down his extremely loose boxer shorts go down with them and I got to see his entire nekid butt. I rolled my eyes, exhaled, and looked away. Not impressed. I've seen more meat on a thin cut steak. He wasn't in a hurry to pick up his pants either. Jeez-Louise. So then he is talking to this nice young lady and she asks him to stop the gas pump and he walks around with his legs spread out like a cow boy on a three month cattle drive with saddle sores; gets to the pump is now FACING me and DOWN.....go the jeans and boxers again. This time I'm getting the full frontal Monty. I'm sitting there....he has the gas pump in one hand, he's reaching for his britches with the other, and it's like his brain can't figure out to let go of the pump, to pick up his pants and cover himself. He looks at me - I'm staring at him. I am NOT IMPRESSED IN THE LEAST. His girlfriend comes around the car and now she's got her hip cocked out, arms crossed, tapping her foot, and begins to walk over and get the window squeege and beat this boy with it who is trying to pull up his pants. Oh not for MY benefit I assure you. There was another car full of young ladies in the bay next to us. Then as if they had JUST figured out that I'm now sitting there tapping my steering wheel waiting, waiting.....waiting.....she smiles and makes the "Oh I'm sorry" words and then like ZAP - barks at him "GET IN THE CAR (*#()$*# and he gets in the back seat." and they pull up just enough for me to get gas - while she continues to beat this boy with her purse. My thought was this. IF at 45....we started wearing our pants around our knees.....pierced our tongues, our eyes, our lips, and guaged our ears; If we put streaks of color in our hair, wore clothes 4x too big for us, and walked through stores allowing our butt cracks and belly buttons to show with jewelry to hang out. If we all did this for about a year? I guarantee you all ......within nine months our kids would dress like what WE consider normal.....like we really WANT them to. Because we all know they will do whatever we DO NOT. That's all we have to do. So today I'm off to find some boxers, and a knee belt. I already have clothes that are too big for me..I enjoy running around nekid...I'm just a few earrings away from changing the styles GOSH...I'm 1/2 way there!!!! I can hardly wait to moon some teenager at the gas station..... Maybe I'll get a lot of tattoos too.....what do you think? A donkey and a peace sign....a string of hearts.....a dragon.....and hello kitty right on my butt.