IT HAS COME TO THIS

A scene from this afternoon: Ken-ichi is at a farmer’s market. Ken-ichi carefully chooses a bunch of basil (silently but emphatically pronouncing it BAH-zill) with the fewest flowers, selects a small, youngish globe egg plant, and a few heirloom tomatos (silently but emphatically pronouncing them toh-MAH-toze), and brings them to the register. He hands over the eggplant and tomatoes separately, knowing they cost different amounts per pound, and shows his basil, which he knows is priced by the bunch. Ken-ichi packs his vegetables into various pockets and chambers in his backpack, and walks away. The guy at the register calls out, “Uh, sir?” Ken-ichi continues, assuming, as always, that people could not possibly be talking to him. “Sir?” Ken-ichi turns, and the guy is looking at him, holding a plastic bag. Ken-ichi takes a step or two back, and says, “No thanks, I don’t need a bag.” Guy says, “No, you forgot to pay.” Ken-ichi pauses, sheepishly mutters a lie about long days, and smiles apologetically.

Stupid is as stupid does, and stupid does some prety stupid things.