The Sadness of Thrift Shops
by Jerry Ratch
Punks were stationed out front with spiked-orange hair, dressed in black leather jackets, leather pants and engineer boots. You've got to understand, it was hot out, and now that it had rained, it was downright steamy.
They had rings in their noses. They wore earrings, two of them up and down their ears. They were bald at the sides of their heads, and the bright orange parts of their hair rose in greased spikes like a Mohawk. They passed by in a pack and cast the evil eye on everything. It was definitely something they had practiced. This was an action that was meant to intimidate anyone who stood in their path. They couldn't have done it better if they'd waved guns around in the air.
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Author's Note
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I've seen these fools. Don't they understand "punk" was over by 1980. They're intimidating and ridiculous at once.
Steven, I believe the correct terminology is "So over!"
Someone needs to tell them that conformity is the new nonconformity. They're trying too hard.
:)
Hey hey, my my! Is this the story of Johnny Rotten? :) Nicely put Jerry.
Ties together so well with the last sentence.
I've gotten that look a couple of times...
Love this bit: "It was definitely something they had practiced."
Imagining them coaching each other. "No, Blade, you gotta scowl more. Like this."
The scene is good and edgy, I can almost smell the sweaty leather and ripe stinky breath. But, as a metaphor it works on that level which is just below the sight-line. Excellent crisp writing, Jerry. ***
You've got to carry when you go into one of those shops. A .38 will do the trick. A .357 is better. *
Hair is so dangerous. Glad I'm bald. Met a woman with a tattoo of Gamdhi on her clit. What kind if peace is that? So yesterday, but so good. Keep writing.