Grrrrrrrr

I hate young teenaged boys who spray silly string on me as I leave the train. I hate them with a fiery passion. I hate the way the silly string makes my sweater smell. I hate that these kids would think that I was the proper target of such an attack. I glared at them long and hard. But then the train moved away and I was left seething in my own silly stringed hair and sweater ness. Hate. Teenaged. Boys. With no manners.