Joe to the Rescue

Every so often our wonderful pirate neighborhood experiences an influx of new folks just passing through to somewhere else. I kind of want to set up some sort of focused time-lapse photography project because I honestly don't know where these people come from.

  Anywho, most of these new-comers wind up in our neighborhood because the train tracks run straight through the middle of it. I'm assuming that it's a weather thing, you know; people train hopping more when the weather is a little more amicable to being outside, or riding in a drafty boxcar. I'm getting off track though. The biggest problem with this is that said newcomers don't understand some of the unsaid codes of the neighborhood. I wouldn't go so far to say that we welcome transients, but more that we tolerate their existence with a sort of mild disregard. Thus we meet "Beanie Lady".

I actually wasn't present for this episode, but heard eye witness testimony from my buddy "Goggles". Beanie Lady had been in the store, and asked to leave once or twice before, but the third time is the charm as the saying goes.
 
 It was a normal sleepy Sunday, Goggles was chilling out working (no doubt listening to some sort of weird robotic electronic computer funk that I can't stand.....or Shakira....maybe Brittany Spears). Joe, one of our warmly welcomed regular "house-less" fixtures, was sitting next to the window sipping on a cup of coffee as he looked out at the sun shining through the branches of an old growth oak tree in our parking lot. This beautiful, peaceful, kind of pastoral scene was, however, abruptly interrupted when Beanie Lady came rambling through the store. It's easy to spot when somebody is taking some sort of harder drug, and because of her jittery nervous movements I'm kind of guessing she's cranking through some cheap meth, or really low grade cocaine most of the time. Anywho, she was ruckus enough to be asked to leave by our gentle front end cashier. (which, let me tell you, is really hard to do in our store...so once that line is crossed there's really no going back). Now, let it be said....we all have defense mechanisms. Most of us keep them tightly under wrap, which we're able to do because they aren't pushed very hard. But for folks on the road, that button is pushed so hard that it has kind of sunk down into the fixture....it's on a hair trigger so to speak. Not to justify Beanie Lady's response, but to explain it.

Suffice to say, Beanie Lady freaked out and started cussing up a blue streak. Not that abnormal of an occurrence but I can't say it's something that I've ever gotten used to. The problem with yelling while angry is how it tends to make one more angry. So, having worked herself up, Beanie Lady managed to take a swing at the cashier. Let's picture this with some "Matrix style slow motion".

Her knobbed and knuckley fist sailed through the air between her and her intended target.
 The force sending ripples of tiny winds up her arm, blowing her tangled hair gently backwards with displaced momentum.

 The cashier, eyes wide, leans back from the intended strike reeling back onto her heels while her arms move in front of her face to shield herself.

The sun is still shining brightly through the window where Joe was recently seated. But instead of a grizzly man sipping on coffee we see the chair being thrown backwards as Joe bravely jumps in between the attacker and victim. His arms up above his head, Joe gesticulates wildly to successfully ward off the assailant. And....end scene.

What Joe did next is what makes this episode so amusing (no, I'm not tickled by the thought of my co-worker being punched by local junkies)....Having warded off Beanie Lady's attack Joe then turns to Goggles and our cashier and proceed to lecture them on the finer points of discernment regarding the various transients of the neighborhood.
"You can just let anybody in from off the street here" Joe exclaimed as he launched into a history of encounters with Beanie Lady.

 There are, in fact, some instances in which it is helpful to appeal to a pot to identify the varying shades of blackness that a kettle may or may not have. In this case, Joe knows more about his world than I do, so I defer to his experience. There's just something hilarious about one homeless guy lecturing us about letting bums in from off the street. In Joe's defense, he's no bum. Not at all! He takes care of the landscaping around the store, has a great sense of humor, and apparently makes a pretty decent bouncer when he has to. It just goes to show that the existence of "Bad eggs" sometimes highlights the "good eggs" at the same time. Keep that dude in mind the next time you want to apply the same treatment to a broad demographic of society, nothing is uniform when it comes to people.


Thanks Joe, your coffee is on me!

First things first

I've spent a good amount of time thinking about what exactly I hope to accomplish with this whole blog, and the truth is that I'm honestly not all that sure. I do know this, the natural grocery store I work for is a fascinating place. It can be, at times hilarious, and at times tragic. There isn't much of a real way to know what I'm going to get each day that I walk in through that front door but most of the time I can rest assured that it will be interesting, and more often than not I find myself wishing I could just sit back, bourbon in hand,                     and enjoy the various humorous goings on that I experience in an 8 hour time period. I guess that just about says what you need to know, this blog is a look at the environment where I work. Before I launch into the description of my store, please understand that I'm not some sort of "shock jock"blogger looking to making everybody who disagrees with me out to be some sort of cosmic idiot. But, rather that I've noticed people tend to take themselves a little too seriously most of the time, and some of the behaviors and notions that come out of that self-righteousness...well, funny. 

Alright...on to it. I work in a store that sits in the midst of neighborhood with it's own flag. I'm not kidding, I've seen people sporting sweatshirts, tee-shirts, bumper stickers, I'm pretty sure that somewhere there is an abundance of shot glasses, and bongs sporting the cherished neighborhood logo. It's odd enough that the 'hood has a logo, but the flag really and paraphernalia really take it to that next level of cool. So, on this flag there is a skull that is framed in by three bones (kind of like a house of sorts). Flags, being symbolic by nature, of course have their underlying meanings. What are we to determine from this flag......that the humble store in which I work is located in a neighborhood that houses pirates. If you think that's a little over the top....we've got a dude with a hook. Yup....not a prosthetic hand....a large, sharp hook. We affectionately call him "Lefty". He's a pretty chill, matter of fact dude that, for the most part just wants to go about his business and drink PBR from time to time. Oddly enough, Lefty...the dude with the hook mind you, in my mind stands out as one of more normal fixtures of the neighborhood. It's not uncommon to see people strolling down the street in knickers with top-hats, dressed up as animals, or other sundry mystical creatures.... fairy wings don't even stand out to me anymore honestly, oh, and let's not forget the random naked people on bikes experience.  In the midst of the more colorful neighborhood expressions are your average work-a-day (or do-something-a-day) hippies. But, you'll have plenty of time to hear about the neighborhood, let's talk about the store itself.

Right, smack dab in the middle of all this free-wheeling, co-op living, fairy wing wearin, naked bike riding, glass blowing neighborhood sits our little natural grocery store. It's a pretty cool place to be honest, were you to go the first thing you'd see would be a sizable table with oranges, pineapples, mangoes, tomatoes, and some crazy freakin fruit that nobody apart from our awesome produce dudes know about. Seriously, I can even look at vegetable in other stores anymore....it's awesome. We've got a solid beer, and wine selection, a deli case with handmade sandwiches, fresh pressed raw juices, tuna salad, and weird spreads that I make in the deli with my minions. Everything we sell is either crazy eco-conscious recycled stuff (to think that the kleenex your wiping your nose with was once a tire, magazine...or worst case scenario a diaper), super organic-weknowthefarmers-produces. Alternative coconut based ice cream, and freakin tofu to your hearts desire if non-meat protein is your thing. I manage the deli in this smorgusboard of earth friendly, organic, fair-trade, shade grown, shrink wrapped abundance, and honestly I'm proud of what we can do back there: Coffee, sandwiches, raw bottled fruit and veggie juices, we make our own soups, and sandwich specials, we bake scones and cookies, and package a plethora of awesome dried fruit and what have you. Every once in awhile when we get the hankerin to make something extra awesome I''ll try to post some pictures for ya. 

So in the midst of these two environments is me.....a traditional Protestant campus minister. I grew up mostly on a small ranch  in rural Northern California with two parents who both worked 40+ hours a week. Our landlord was a WWII veteran from the Marine Corps, and my grandfather was a retired Navy Commander. All that to say, my upcoming was pretty traditionally American, and perhaps slightly like a Steinbeck novel. If I wasn't playing Super Mario Bros, I was probably fishing in the pond, or walking the back 40 in search of a stupid lamb that wandered off to get caught in a fence. I've been described by a good friend as "radically traditional", I dig the Bible, and the Westminster Confession of Faith. I think the Constitution is pretty cool as it is right now, I still listen to tired old 90's music, and will argue with anybody who has a bad word to say about CCR, the Smashing Pumpkins, or The Guess Who. So really, it's pretty hilarious that I work where I do, but we seem to all get along for the most part. So, there it is....the background for some hilariously poignant anecdotal bloggage. Stay tuned for the first installment: "How Organic is your Turkey?"