True Sh!t 2: Fists of Fructose

This is the Gospel truth folks, I'm not making this up...

Last summer Wifey-Do and I went to the Safeway store on Ainsworth and MLK to pick up some food from the Chinese deli. The deli had closed early, so Wifey-Do got some things and we went to the checkout line. The arrival of an unexpected shipment congested the back of the store with new products; most of the staff worked to clear it up and customers had to wait for help. Some customers ran out of patience.

At the checkout line, I looked at the tabloid headlines until I noticed the manager helping a customer whose Oregon trail card wasn't getting along with the card reader. He patiently helped her make the transaction, guiding her through the choices on the little display. No sooner had he finished than another woman came up to him and said she was tired of waiting for assistance. He apologized and explained the problem at the back of the store. With one fist on her hip, she stood scowling without looking at him as he spoke. When he finished, she mumbled about the wait and stormed off.

The manager took a deep breath, then asked us how our shopping experience was that evening. Wifey-Do said all was fine, but we missed buying food at the Chinese deli. With the words "Chinese deli" fading in my ears, I looked at the end of the checkout counter and saw a young man with blond hair and glasses whose attire was so out of place that it took my attention away from everything else in the store. I no longer heard the shopping carts rattling around the corners of the aisles. I no longer saw the manager or Wifey-Do. There was only the man standing before us. A man wearing a white Karate robe and a green belt. He was a cross between Luke Skywalker and Bill Gates, with the emphasis on Bill. And this Silicon Valley ronin was not happy.

He attracted the manager's attention and told him the recycle bins outside were full and not accepting any more cans. Why would a guy wear a white martial arts robe while at a filthy place like Safeway's recycle center? Had he finished a workout? Why didn't he take a shower and change into regular clothes? I don't know much about Martial Arts; perhaps there is a code or teaching that says, "Before you can grasp the beauty of the heavens, you must first take your cans to the Safeway."

The manager told him of the congestion at the back of the store and that someone would get to the recycle area as soon as they could. The Pentium® Ronin was unsatisfied with the response. His eyes narrowed. He leaned forward with purpose and spoke, "Besides those that were full, more are full now." He turned and walked away.

The manager took another deep breath and continued to scan our items. I stepped forward to offer him a grain of wisdom. "Be careful. He knows Karate."

"Yes," He replied, "I will be careful with what I say. Thank you, grasshopper."

Two hours later Wifey-Do and I were eating ribs and I'm still laughing about the The Pentium® Ronin.