Chill

A group of four kids ranging in age from 14ish to 7ish meander into the store one afternoon. They might've been siblings; Fernando doesn't know. He's never seen any of them before, in the company of parents or otherwise.

They stand in the store's entrance foyer. One of them says, “Cool, fridge!” and opens the door. Then closes the door. Then opens the door. Then closes the door with greater force. Then opens the door. Then slams the door. Some of Fernando's sodey pops topple over at that one. After a little while, a second round of sodey tumblings ensues when gravity does its nefarious work on the ones presumably leaning at an angle. The four of them break into a cascade of giggles at the devastation.

'Kay. “Hi. Do you guys plan on buying or renting anything today?”

The eldest says, “I don't know. We're just here to chill I think.”

“Alright then. You should probably go chill somewhere else.”

The four leave. Kids these days.