Teens have it hard

I am sick and tired of being discriminated against because of my age. It has gone on for much too long, and I will not stand for it. Why, just today, I was in Expo, because they had a thirty percent off sale, and I was sitting on a box, because quite frankly my legs were tired. Now, before I tell you what happened, I would like to inform you there was no sign saying "Don't sit on box" or anything of the sort. Okay, so now this really old man comes over to me and yells in the most insulting tone "Get off the boxes!". He gave me this really evil glare, so I decided to return it with an even worse stink eye. I also wanted to tell him something, but there is no way I have the moxy to do that. I did however (under my breath of course) called him a "fascist pig" and did tell him where he could go (hell) or as my science teacher says H-E- double hockey sticks. Here's another example of my age making people think differently of me. In this case, I was thought of as a shop lifter; no, not of lottery tickets, or cigarettes, but candles. Who in their right mind would shoplift a candle?! Well anywho, here's how it all played out. It was September of 2007, and I was with my friend Arie (no you can't know his last name) strolling the streets of downtown Hinsdale, and we stop by the Garden Gallery store. I know it sounds weird that two teenagers decide to go into a garden shop, but Arie insisted that they had the best organic chocolate. So we stepped inside, and Arie heads straight to the counter while I examine the merchandise. I stop by these scented candles, and smell them. They smelled disgusting. Before I continue with this story, you must know that I have a large green kiplinger bag I use for a backpack. I'll continue now. I picked up another candle and sniffed it, just as horrible as the last. I put it back and the woman behind the counter says "Did you just put that in your bag?" then she continued "I think you did". I replied "No, trust me, I don't steal candles. I decorate with them, but I don't steal them...." Then, me not being able to let something go, just had to add "Especially these foul smelling ones." My friend stared at me as if I had a third eye. Now that clerk was angry. She gave me this hateful glare and said "Give me your bag. I want to look in it." and I replied "Do you have a warrant? Are you a police officer? No, you are a store clerk and have no power over me. So, no you may not look at my bag." At this point, Arie was backing out of the store because of being uncomfortable, but when he heard my speech, it stopped him in his tracks. The clerk was about to go insane. She just said "Get out of my store." I answered "Happily." in a voice as sweet as vomit. I was never so proud of myself.