So it's part of our job at the mall to kick campers out of the parking lot.

(Yeah, yeah, it's legal for people to camp in Sprawl-Mart parking lots IF the parking lot in fact belongs to Sprawl-Mart, and in this case it doesn't.)

I hate doing it. Nathan hates doing it.

Last night there was only one. I was running the floor machine and Nathan comes over and is all:

"Rosie. There's a camper in the parking lot."

So we decide to go together, for moral support.

Some campers can be REALLY indignant and mean, and yell a lot (in which case we just phone the cops, but it's still not nice).

Anyway, as we approach we come to realize this camper belongs to about seven 19-20-somethings, all male, listening to blaring hip-hop.

Most of them look like drunk white-boys-who-think-they're-black.

"Excuse me," says Nathan. "Does this camper belong to one of you?"

They confirm that it's theirs.

So we explain the situation.

And they were very nice about it. It was weird, and good.

We explained the policies of the mall parking lot, and they asked if we were angry ("We honestly don't care, so long as you move along."), and whether we knew of a place they could park overnight.

We suggested a few places to try, and they thanked us, promptly packed up and left.

Just goes to show, sometimes elderly people are the assholes, and the young punks really do know their manners.

It was nice.

.

Rosie.

Before&After