I tend not to mind my own business during the course of any given day; let that be said up front. However, whilst smoking a cigarette in a mostly-deserted parking-lot while pacing up a storm, the converse is very much true - this is my time to brood, so I shut the fuck up and brood. Now, usually when I spy someone walking in my general vicinity, I avert my subconscious pacing-path to strut away from the interloper, eventually turning again to find them gone...and back I go to the solace of my blissful brooding, and everything is the way it should be. Today, though, was a different story - today, a girl of maybe sixteen wandered into my little sector of solitude and just hung around; I could see her in my peripheral-vision, and she just, well, stood there. I ultimately relented and faced what I was sure was going to be some sort of problem...but no: this girl blew me a kiss, giggled, and ran into a nearby bank. Incredulous though I was, the whole thing reminded me of the girl I knew in high-school whose 40-year-old uncle left his wife & kids to "start a new life"...with a sixteen-year-old. I was but three years removed from this girl with the daddy/boyfriend-complex at the time, but I was, even then, appalled. You can blow your head through your ass fifteen times a day telling me that "she didn't look sixteen", and I'll frown and assume that you have no idea what sixteen-year-old girls look like. Regardless, you reprobate, here's a hint: Shoes. The girl who inexplicably kissed at me was wearing white, dirty, untied running shoes that were, and this is key, too big for her...as if her mom was still buying shoes that she'd "grow in to". Suffice it to say, women don't wear these shoes, and if they do, it's because they're in full power-walk-gear and had some sort of "what size am I?" mental-breakdown in Foot Locker. Girls dressed to the nines wait at bus-stops all over Hammertown, and one glance at their dilapidated footwear tells you that they're heading for school - and I'm not talking college. Here’s my theory...and if someone else came up with it first, let me know: as a gender, guys are immature; as such, the guys who didn’t even get a whiff of tail in high-school still, more than likely, see the opposite-sex with those same sixteen-year-old eyes that were watching scrambled-cable-TV-porn back before the internet made the "naughtiness" of porn almost superfluous; combine this with the fact that teenaged-girls can, quite easily, become infatuated with older-men, and there’s your witches’ brew of Svengaliesque nastiness. Gah; I’m so unsettled right now.