teenagers scare the living sh*t out of me

So, I got out of work today, and I decided to walk down to Newbury Street, since I wanted to hit up the DVD section at Newbury Comics. (Newbury Comics: best used DVD selection around.) Stopped in at the Best Buy that's where the HMV used to be, that was where Tower Records used to be. (Might have been Virgin Megastore sometime in there, too--I can't quite remember.)

Proceeded on to Newbury, and there was an ocean of black-clad hair-streaked adolescence outside, held at bay by a couple of Boston's finest.

Fuck, I said to myself. There's a music signing. I just wanted to peruse some DVDs!

But it looked like they were wrapping up, so I hung around a little, and I scanned the crowd, trying to figure out who was keeping me from my DVDs. And then I saw it, like a creepy beacon of glued magazine clippings, on a sign held by one of the squealing teenyboppers:

I LOVE YOU GERARD WAY

And I just started laughing.

Wandered down the sidewalk a little bit, tried to make a few phone calls but no one answered because my friends hate me, but it's cool, I am more than enough entertainment for myself. Turned around to see the crowd poofing back inside, except for a breakaway minimob taking camera-phone pictures through the window of the Rugby store next door. Gerard Way had apparently left the building by way of the building next door.

Finally got inside, and had trouble scanning the DVD racks, because I was laughing too hard at the teenage girls stroking the folding table he'd been signing at and squealing. Oh, girls, I wanted to say, I know women twice your age who'd be doing the very same thing.

Fess up. Were any of y'all there? 'cause I wasn't laughing AT you...

... except that I totally was. *beg*