OPINION: Mike Albanese’s Four Rules for Atlantic Station

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Hey, you seen any kids enjoying themselves? Because I'd like to point a gun at them.

The Atlanta Police Department are putting their vast resources to good use today in Atlantic Station as was evident by the vast amounts of SWAT, Special Response Units and even the mounted patrol. August marks the spot on the calendar when Atlantic Station institutes its new rules, meant to “better the environment” of the once dead outdoor shopping giant.

Here are the 4 newest rules that you must abide by or face expulsion from the many amazing shops and restaurants Atlantic Station doesn’t have to offer:

1) NO SMOKING! At all. Light up? Get the fuck out! Even the electronic cigs. Even if your fingers or breath smell like you have smoked that week! Got em in your pocket? Dont worry about wanting to smoke. Atlantic Station security will make sure to put you in cuffs. That way you wont be tempted to step into Marlboro country.

2) NO SAGGY PANTS. Remember middle school when the teachers would make girls put their arms down by their sides to make sure their shorts were below their fingertips? Almost the same thing, but now your pants can’t be below your waist more than 3”. This shouldnt be a problem, seeing as how we all buy pants in the 1950’s. I have personally seen security kick people out for breaking this rule. I would have tried to speak up but my mouth was full of nicotine gum and I didnt want to alert homeland security.

3) NO PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION. This includes, but is not limited to: Hand holding, kissing, telling your girlfriend that shirt she is thinking of buying looks good on her, telling your soon-to-be-ex girlfriend she is way too fat for that tube top she is thinking of stealing from H&M (and lets be honest, anything she will buy from H&M isnt going to fit her), masturbating in view of the public, masurbating inside the giant keg cooler at Yard House (this clearly is a rule of necessity) and general enjoyment of one another’s company.

4) NO FUN. No shit?

So, as the lights dim on another hazy Atlanta sunset and the moon rises over the space ship atop the Hyatt Regency — the one that every OTP high schooler who comes downtown is certain is the Sun Dial restaurant — just remember: the rules are the rules. And if you break them? Big whoop. Go anywhere else in Atlanta and enjoy yourself.