I absolutely hate consumerism, how everything that is remotely enjoyable is ripped apart, mass produced and then packaged neatly for the hungry consumer. I was browsing books at the Borders in Plaza Escorial, checked the computer to see if my selection was in store when all of a sudden I see this young girl who seemed to be around nine years old enter the small hallway in the literature section in front of me, she grabbed the ledge of the bookcase and began talking on monologue mode.

Oh I am just so tired my feet are killing me! All I wish is for one of those comfortable couches to be available for me to look at this book with ease. Excuse me but are you going to be there for long?

The man in the black couch lifted his view from the book he was enjoying, I quickly recognized him as one of the store employees, and he gazed at the girl with discomfort.

- Are you addressing me?
- Why yes, will you be there for long?
- Probably about a half hour more

The girl left with an exclamation of her tired body that could be heard throughout the whole section and I could only stare there and think she was very well articulated for a nine year old. I looked at the man and I expressed my amazement on how polite the words sounded even if it was a complete transgression on her part. I finished browsing the selection on the computer and headed to the next hallway to search for the book and instead of finding Wonder Boys I get All Families Are Psychotic by Douglas Copland whose recent works are just amazing. As I hold the book in my hands the same little girl from the previous hallway comes in and does the same monologue all over again, I obviously smirk, she was a con artist in the guise of a young girl setting out to relieve people of their comfortable sitting space for her own comfort with the help of her childish innocence, fiendish indeed and admirable if I say so myself. The young woman stood up revealing the fullness of her figure and bushy eyebrows, she seemed a bit butch, and the words she spoke were soft and kind.

- Are you talking to me?
- Yes are you going to be there for long, my feet are killing me and all I wish is for a chair to browse this book with comfort before my family leaves so I may decide to purchase it or not.
- Well okay as I’m leaving in a few minutes you can take the chair as soon as I am done.

The little girl left and I look at the young woman, we laugh and I inform her that the girl did the same spectacle in the previous hallway. The young woman goes on saying how I am such a nice person and that I remind her of one of her best friends that moved to Virginia but brace yourself for this for his name is also Nelson. The room became mute as I felt I was drawn into an alternate world, I had imagined having a long lost twin brother as a kid whenever I felt lonely but to be told by a total stranger that I remind them of someone and that someone ends up having the same name is right down freaky. She asked me about myself and apparently her friend had lost his mother when he was a teenager as well, please insert horrifying mood music here. Noticing we both have books on our hands, she tells me about hers, a novel about two best friends and their loyal friendship, I completely missed the title because the premise seem so generic and dull.

- I know it’s too sweet but I like it.
- Whatever! A friend of mine lent me her copy of A Walk to Remember so I came here to get something a little more edgy.

I raise the book on my hand, the cover was a bright orange and in black bold letters was written the title All Families are Psychotic by Douglas Copland. She laughed and the air around us distorted I could feel the nature of our conversation was about to change into something I disliked talking to strangers about, needles to say I dislike talking to boring strangers altogether. She tells me that she felt like her friend’s mother even if she was younger than him and that even though he was gone her best friend is with her every step of the way, he’s the best friend, such a good friend, she lingered for a moment looking kindly at me and says you know who I’m talking about right? I look at her my body completely stiff, I knew the answer but the words could not check out of my brain and that is when she says I am talking about God. Code Red rile up all the crazies we have an encounter of the third kind here, was what popped into my head but I did not want to get into an argument about why I have lost my faith with a total stranger that would obviously fail to see my point She said God was the best father and that I am such a good person, that I should never stop being good. She left and I stared at the orange cover of the book I read the title again All Families are Psychotic, I turned the book around to see what other works from the author are listed and among them was Life after God.

I went over to the café but being a Sunday night it was full with all the psychotic families that seriously do not know what they want aside from the fact that they want it and make work an unpleasant experience for employees everywhere, so instead of being intoxicated by their banter I left for Starbucks. Looking through the entrance the place was full and to my horrid surprise instead of it being occupied by writers and artists of every kind trying to express or exchange ideas over a hot cup of pricey mass produced corporate coffee, it was instead filled with impressionable freshmen with laptops mimicking what study group they saw on their favorite TV show and also all the psychotic families that populate Sunday nights. I have been drinking coffee since I was in second grade and that just maybe one of my problems but seriously the appeal of coffee shops is a nice warm place in which you may enjoy a cup of coffee and sit for a short while but as far as my eye saw most of the people there did not have even one cup on their tables but every table had about four laptops in it, yes four laptops talk about insane. I waited around outside for a table or at least a chair to become available, I sat down and in front of me there were two boys that looked around twelve years old sipping on Frapuccinos and flirting with girls on their cell phones, at that point I wanted to take the long hard plastic green straw from my drink and stab myself in the eye. Those kids just like every other preteen depicted in any preteen show have skipped the horrible awkwardness of adolescence and become miniature arrogant adults, my generation was the one in which this trend started and it sickens me. I guess it was just one of those days in which I cannot stand people.