Every once in a while you come across a set of circumstances so incredibly odd that it defies description. At lunch today, I had to go into Safeway, and upon entering the store, two police officers were holding a obliviously “crazy” man. First of all, one of the cops had his flashlight beam focused on the suspect — we’re inside a brightly fluorescent lit grocery store. That works. Next, our suspect has schizophrenic hair that had not seen a comb or shampoo in at least a good month. He was wearing a white t-shirt — well, the t-shirt was white but the thick layer of dirt, grease, oil and other dried fluids obscured that particular fact. Now for the kicker, the other cop was holding a cheap, knock-off samurai sword. I kid you not, a sword, a f’ing sword. This brought many questions to my mind.
“A samurai sword, really?”
“Who brings a sword into the grocery?”
“Does this guy always carry a sword?”
One question after the next kept bombarding my cranium, well, they still are tumbling around in there. I should have asked the cops, “What’s the deal here because I can’t deal with mystery of the Safeway Samurai swordsman?”, and that way I could have got it out of my system.
