Feb 052013
 

ArmbrusterIt was snowing heavily as David left BFG on his daily lunch forage.  Earlier rain had ensured that the massive cotton-candy flakes would not stick as they touched the puddled sidewalks.  But, the chill in the air was enough to guarantee David’s outing would be a quick one- just to the train station bakery and back.  The small bakery sits outside the main station and serves as a bastion of German efficiency, two women manage to churn out the daily snacks and lunches of hundreds of commuters- and, often, David and other local workers.

On this particular day, there was a sparse gathering in the shop.  But, after Crazy Man came in, most of the customers fled.  He wasn’t initially harmful, just too uncomfortable to be around.  He started by pulling cards and papers out of his wallet and setting them on the counters.  Then, he became fascinated with pushing his items under the bakery display glass into the area with the food.

Crazy Man had a rangy scruffiness.  He was easily taller than David’s near 6′ and he had that dissociated lack of focus common to toddlers and the mentally ill.  Crazy Man started in lifting one of the display cases and gathering up the price placards labeling all the goods.  The ladies behind the counter tried to shoo him away, but without effect.  The one in charge of David’s meal hurried things along so he could take his lunch and leave.  But, he wasn’t interested in abandoning the bakery ladies, especially as now he was the only customer left in the small shop.   The ladies continued their attempts to dissuade Crazy Man from holding their placards hostage.

“No one will want to buy things if you have touched them!” they pleaded.  Eventually he handed over the placards- a bit like a proud dog relinquishing a chew toy- then he trotted over to begin on the second display case.

“No no!” they told him, “We will have to call the police!”

That is when Crazy Man noticed David.  Dressed for the snow, David’s jacket had a fluffy collar. Crazy Man came toward him, obviously intent on stroking the softness; specters of Lennie Small from Of Mice and Men filled the little shop.

“Nein!” David said firmly.  His arm swung up with a strong, controlled movement to block the man’s outreached hand.  He echoed the movement a moment later as Crazy Man persisted.  David shifted his stance to project more authority.

“Nein!” he repeated, “Aus!”  He pointed at the door.

“Aus!” he demanded again, just as firmly.  The man, at last, made a wandering retreat.  The bakery ladies visibly relaxed, but the flustered woman holding his sandwich thoughtlessly set it down in a puddle of cappuccino left by a prior patron.  She flushed and started over.

Outside a small, elderly woman noticed Crazy Man as he entered the square.  She swooped in on him, clucking and chattering her admonishments and he obediently followed her away from the area.

David may be a Badass, but we have learned in our time here that no one is Badasser than older German ladies on a mission!

  3 Responses to “Bakery Badass”

  1. I am glad it went as well as it did. I am also glad David got the lunch he wanted!

  2. I don’t have time for movies and TV, but these stories always get me my adventure…

  3. Let’s hear it for badassery in all its forms!

Leave a Reply