NEW YORK (AFP) - A 24-year-old man arrested in the US state of Pennsylvania for holding up a convenience store wearing nothing but a hat has told police he did it because he was bored, according to local reports.
The surveillance video shows a man with heavy tan lines, apparently from a "wife-beater" style vest, approach the counter. Officials said the man demanded money from the clerk, who refused to hand anything over and called the police....
The robber then fled the store empty handed....
Asked by police why he carried out the attempted robbery, he said he was bored.
Ahh, how often have I sat here at my computer, jobless, looking for a way to stimulate my mind other then through cyber tantric sex on steamy Australian adult chat sites. How I admire this man's courage, and his conviction of not getting lost in that blackhole where time and ambition meet to create boredom. Let him free! I say, how many of us can really admit we haven't sought this sort've enlightenment before when we were bored?
If I recall correctly, I experienced 'boredom' in 1998, as it is so passively reffered to these days, during my time as trumpeteer in a local Mariachi band. Don't get me wrong, I lived the fast lane alright. In fact, some would say I was the least likely to be bored, a superlative category I lobbied hard to include in my high school's senior yearbook. I ended up losing the vote to Adam "Flames" Thompson, whose name alone suggests why I may have been out of my league. Needless to say, it was an eventuality; a new report written by the respected institution on 'boredom', the Beaurau of Low Attaining Statisfaction Enterprise (Blasé), suggests that every man, and most women, over the age of 18 will experience this affliction in their lifetimes. Yet we spend all this money in our never ending obsession with materialism, ignoring the plight felt by literally millions. It's truly a shame to see how wasteful we have become.
But back to my story, it hit me suddenly. Like an Arab boarding a plane, I knew this boredom wasn't going to go away. Although it has not, as of this writing, been proven to be contagious, I am sure that I got it from Raphael, my Portuguese roommate and our Mariachi's guitatarronist. He always held the fact against me that I wasn't as "street" as the rest of the band. That bastard, if only his fascination with the stock market was not as strong, I may have avoided the awful fate that awaited me.
I had realized that band practice was not for another 2 hours, and a meeting I was supposed to have with my perscription drugs dealer had to be cancelled, because of the "fuzz". To my astonishment, I had nothing to do. I looked left, and decided I didn't want to do watch television, any of my 1960's Conspiracy: The Cold War dvd's. To the right, I realized I could read a book, maybe finish up Dog Massage: A Whiskers-to-Tail Guide to Your Dog's Ultimate Petting Experience.
How revolutionary are those petting techniques, I thought to myself. Who would've guessed that there are so many ways to pet a dog! I had broken free for a moment, almost releasing my mind out of this state of boredom, but then I had remembered, my roommate accidentally spoiled the ending for me a week back when he uncautiously blurted out that the paw-claw caress was the most effective of the petting techniques. My eyes stared into a sea of black, and I fell right back in. Damn you, Raphael!
Searching for an answer, I got up from my living room sofa, barged through the balcony doors, leaned off the edge and began to scream to dozens of onlookers. "Help me! For the love of God help me, have you no honor? Is there no decency in your hearts?"
There was no reply. I was truly alone, the world had heard my pleas and turned the other cheek. Where is Jesus when you need him? I thought. Probably in Africa, I imagined. They've got a lot of problems down there .
I needed a saviour, and indeed, one would find me. Well, I sort've found him. 'Him' being the overweight, yet cuddly counter manager of the local Wok 2 Go, who had to endure my endless rant on the similarities between Nouri Al-Maliki and Dane Cook. He always let me speak, though, which I thought was polite. The day ended when a local squad car picked me up, right before I could introduce my new theory of relativity to the interested masses. Oh, and I was naked. I should have mentioned, I was absolutely naked. It's just easier that way.
I would like to use this space to apologize to the Wok 2 Go manager, and the 16 girl-scouts (and their chaperones) who had the unhonarable experience of watching my genetalia wiggle while I showcased my arsenal of topical, yet appropriate impressions Kim Jong-Il. I understand, from several "bills" I have recieved, that 4 of the girls have just finished their first phase of therapy. Congratulations, ladies. Just remember, no pain, no gain.
NOTE To the chaperons: It is inappropriate to use mase, despite how "offensive" and "illegal" a person is acting. Think of going with a harsh email next time, or a mild-yet-weighty face to face scolding.