In the ongoing saga of The Consumerist adventures in daylight, today finds us pecking away in a corner at The Tea Lounge. Also, destroying children’s hopes and dreams.
We found a nook in the corner, behind the Pacman/Galaga table whose perfection is only marred when the Park Slope international stroller patrol marches in. The mothers gather in one spot to get their caffeine fix and discuss organic schools and free-range paninis or whatever, and the tykes immediately shoot for the Pacman. (Children boast a sixth sense for nearby video games.)
At first we’re amused by the base display of humanity, but that quickly wanes in the face of fights and crying and proto-one-upmanship amongst the four little morning glories–their lack of quarters notwithstanding.
The mothers whisk through, delivering quiet foreign words, to no effect. The kids’ behavior grows more riotous. We suppress an urge to help one girl up onto the stool or to give them quarters. No, they must learn early of life’s essential misery.
We can’t think. We can’t type. Nearby patrons cast looks at the squad. Minutes pass. We need to get work done.
So we reach over and pull the plug on the Pacman console. Bwoooop. Deprived of audio/visual stimuli, the brood peels off. Score one for the humbug.