Earlier this week Ben, an assistant store manager, was watching the front end of the Ghetto Depot when Hocus Pocus walked in. This ghetto character is an elderly black man who dresses in a colorful suit, fedora, and leather shoes, and carries a bible, an incense burner and holy water, which he sprinkles on the heathen multitudes as he recites the word of The Lord.
As Ben was making his rounds—virtually the only white in the building—he noticed Hocus Pocus doing a battery disappearing act, stuffing the goods in his suit jacket. Ben walked up to Hocus Pocus and said, "You need to come back to the security office with me, sir."
Hocus Pocus tucked his goods—holy and ill-gotten—under his left arm, got into a karate stance, meowed like Bruce Lee, and leapt at Ben with a lethal karate chop, and the sound of "Ke-yah!" on his lips.! Ben grabbed the man's arm, said, "Sir, come with me," and dragged him back to the security office to await the police.
Ever since his harrowing facedown with Hocus Pocus, every time Ben walks by a register, up an aisle, past the courtesy, by the lunchroom, on in any other place where the employees congregate, at least one employee makes a knife hand and barks, "Ke-yah!"
Ben's nerves are about shot.
