You ever have a conversation with someone and then walk away wondering “….. Huh?” Yeah? Well, then you can relate to the conversation I just had.
It’s Tuesday night. My wife and I are grocery shopping. We’ve got all our stuff and we’re in the checkout line. The cashier calls for a sacker to come to Aisle 4 and then the chaos ensues.
Over wanders a high school youth exuberant in his youth and unmonitored responsibilities. He goes to Aisle 5. Looks around. Sees no groceries to be bagged. He looks at the dimmed number 5 above the register, slowly cranes his head to look at the lit number 4 above our register, then slowly turns back to the number 5. Suddenly, the dim bulb of his own brain lights up and he meanders over to our aisle to begin bagging.
This is just the beginning of the story.
The youth begins bagging our groceries, asks how our days are going, to which we politely reply “Good.” Then, he sees my wife’s hoodie and asks what the word “Anomaly” (printed on the front of my wife’s jacket) means. I explain that “Anomaly” is the name of one of the recent albums of a rap artist Lecrae that my wife and I both enjoy.
He says “Lecrae is trash.”
To which, I respond:
I chuckle and say “Well, to each his own, I guess.”
The youth, emboldened by his immortality and infinite wisdom, goes on to explain how he thinks Kanye West and the rest of the West family is trash.
(Let me pause a moment to say Lecrae has next to nothing to do with Kanye West. It’s like saying grapes and the other vegetables are trash. I will plug Lecrae here. He’s a great artist with beautiful lyrics and deep thoughts. Go check him out.)
Anyways, back to my conversation with a legitimate idiot. As he’s bashing Lecrae and the rest of his West siblings, he pulls out a reusable Star Wars grocery bag that we brought. He gasps and smiles and points at Chewbacca. “I love him,” he says gaily. “You see the new Star Wars movie?”
“Yeah, I did,” I replied.
“I was so sad when he died.”
I clench my fist and smile. “Yeah. That was sad, huh?”
“Yeah.” He pauses to mourn a death that never happened. Then, he dives back into the conversation. “You know who I wish they had brought back for the new movie?”
“Who’s that, man?”
I laugh loudly. “I don’t think anyone at LucasFilm is stupid enough to make that mistake.”
“Aw, c’mon, man! He was funny. Don’t you think he was the supposed to be comedic relief?”
“If even that.”
“Well, the new movies really need his comedic relief.”
The youth continued to prattle on about his love of Jar-Jar as he stuffed an 8-pack of blue Powerade into a bag that was already full of Fruit Pebbles and bananas. After sufficiently mashing the bananas and crumpling the cereal box, he offered to take our groceries to our car. I can hear my wife whispering in low, urgent tones. “Tell him no. Tell him no.”
But I told him, “Sure, man.” It was like a train wreck. I couldn’t look away. It was also cold and rainy outside, so I was sure as heck about to make this dude unload my groceries into my trunk. And while he unloaded the groceries in the cold in his short-sleeved short, I would watch (quite maniacally) in my warm leather jacket.
As we walk through the freezing mist, the young man continues to talk about Star Wars and how excited he is for the new Rogue One movie. He then proceeds to say that he hopes they bring back the guy who played Anakin in the prequels for the Rogue One movie. You know, Mark Hamill. My wife spoke up here and reminded the uneducated fellow that Mark Hamill played Luke in the originals and it was Hayden Christensen that played Anakin in the prequels. (Proud husband moment, there.)
“Oh,” he responded, finally at a loss for words.
After watching him unload all the bags of groceries into my trunk, I thanked him for his time and gave him a tidbit of wisdom, “You know, stupid people say and do stupid stuff sometimes.”
The boy paused, his brow furrowed in thought. Then, the nodded his shaggy head, feigning understanding and strolled back to the store, turning back around once he realized he had forgotten to take the empty grocery cart with him.
After having such a splendid conversation with this boy, I came to realize that one of the following three things must have been true:
- He was high,
- He was the stupidest person in the state of Texas and maybe the rest of the United States, or
- He was the biggest troll I have ever met in my life.
So, here’s to you, prepubescent grocery bagger boy. Don’t quit your day job and I hope you one day find that land filled with Mark Haydensens playing leap frog with Jar-Jar that you so greatly desire.