“Outrage & Justice… These are my virtues and my power is megaphone. My ability allows me to express my opinion without any interruption. This allows me to stop the wrong doings around me. For this I am proud.” Standing at the balcony of her patio in a dusky city Karen proclaims once again.
This lady does this every single day I know this because I walk to work at the same time every day. Her name is Karen and she frequents the store I work at. My name isn’t important. I simply stock these shelves, manage my staff and frequently watch this woman come into the store to speak out on any wrong doing. She isn’t always in the right with her arguments, but after she calms I always find she had an honest reason for doing so. I choose to not kick her out of the store simply because I think is misunderstood and this is where she buys all her food. Also to be honest I find it pretty funny and her presence in the store regularly has made my store decently famous. So more people equals more shoppers and more people recording her in the store is free marketing. Come on down to buy what you need and maybe get a free show.
Karen doesn’t need to be described because Im sure over my recounting you will be able to paint your own picture.
After a brisk walk to work, the morning was like any other as I hear Karen belting her manifesto from her dwelling… “Outrage & Justice,” blah blah blah you get it.
Nothing out of the ordinary so I skip on by. As the day begins I am stocking the shelves in the canned goods isle. This is Karens favorite isle as, “everything is shelf stable,” she always exclaims.
Then out of the corner of my eye a child no more than the age of five years old is sprinting down the isle I’m stocking. As he blazes by me and turns a corner I see Karen’s head shoot out from the opposite end of the isle.
Speed walking up to me she asks, “Did you see a gremlin run by?” I questioned, “do you mean the child running about?” She snaps, “Yes that’s the one! Where did it go?”
I remember now that as the child ran by it was holding a loaf of bread swinging it like a man who caught his first large fish.
Karen said, “that monster stole my bread straight from my cart!” “This will not stand,” she proclaimed at the top of her lungs.
Before I could get up and calm her she sprints off like a penguin forgetting it could just slide away on its belly.
Now that she is fired up I can’t just go back to stocking so I follow them both. I pursue them both turning a corner after exiting the canned goods isle. The young boy sprints down towards the produce isle hoping to loose her in all the veggie islands scattered in the area.
Moving surprisingly fast with the grace of an obese gymnast Karen is gaining on him. The boy notices this and with his free hand turns over the bungee cord cage holding bouncy balls. Just like in an action movie chance scene Karen is blocked by this distraction, but not by much as if by her presence alone the balls seem to pop by her energy. Blazing through them like a rhino Karen just barely grazes the boys hoodie nearly getting him.
As the boy ducks into the produce section as if it is a professional game of tag played by elite parkour athletes he traverses the area gaining some distance from Karen.
This isn’t Karens first rodeo as she maps out the boys pattern through the produce section as if she can see seconds into the future. She dips into a neighboring isle going around the back to meet the boy where he may end up.
Huffing and puffing down the isles Karen posts up on the corner awaiting the young boy ready to grab him at the right moment. As I approach the boy just as he turns the corner I see sausage like fingers snatch the boy as if IT took a child into the sewer.
What came next was pure silence.
I sprint around the corner and in what felt like slow motion I see Karen holding the boy by the collar. His breathing is erratic but silent. Karen is dripping with sweat practically steaming with rage. Calming down slightly Karen starts to scold the child on stealing…
Just as this happens the boy’s mom turns the corner with her cart at a casual speed surprisingly due to the commotion the whole store could hear. As the mothers eyes adjust to the distance through her perception glasses she panics as a strange woman has her child and is screaming at him.
The Mother picks up speed in the car as if intending to ram Karen with it. Rushing at Karen, the Mother yells, “get off my baby you beanbag!”
Collision is imminent as I tighten up expecting to see Karen get laid out by a cart.
Out of nowhere with Karens free hand she stops the cart in its tracks. Karen seems to have the reflexes of a cat and the strength of ten men.
The Mother shaken, but attempting to save face begins screaming, “take your hand off…” Karen erupts, “Is this your boy?!” Mother: “Yes, release hi….” Karen: “If this is your boy then you are truly to blame here,” in that moment Karen simultaneously releases the boy fixes his shirt, clears the tears from his eyes, unwraps a candy giving it to him and with the hand that was on the cart throws it aside like the hulk; finally sliding up nose to nose with the Mother.
The Mother is shaking as she saw all that happen in an instant. Karen in a surprisingly deep yet sweet voice whispers something into her ear.
I wasn’t able to hear it, but right after the Mother apologizes takes her son and leaves buying nothing.
Karen turns to me picking up her battered loaf of bread, takes a deep breath and says, “No one takes my bread.”
My staff and I clean up the mess. Karen finishes her shopping talks to each employee apologizing about the commotion and with a proud look on her face bids us a good day.
Next Time On…
Mr. Sods 
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