Tonight, about half an hour ago at Hollywood Video. A gang of five or six guys in their late teens, early twenties, roaming through the aisles, talking loudly back and forth over the tops of the shelves, making the pretty young manager and the teenage clerk behind the counter nervous.
The guys aren't really punks, but they're acting like punks to amuse each other.
First fake punk (interrupting a conversation he's been having on his cell to call out to his buds): So what are we doing tonight, guys? Watching movies?
Second punk: Watching movies!
Third punk: And getting drunk!
First punk: Getting drunk?
Second, fourth, and fifth punk toghether: Getting drunk?
Third punk (his decision's final): Getting drunk. There's a bottle of vodka with my name on it!
First punk (going back to his phone conversation): You heard? Yeah. Well, you know how it is. You fall in with the wrong crowd. Let me rephrase that. You fall in with the right crowd and you take that first sip?