The Importance of Frozen Yogurt

What does one do when confronted with something right out of a Chris Rock song? Stay tuned for the answer. (No Pumas were harmed and no smudges were made. If you don't get the reference... you're probably better off not knowing.) Last week, my wife and I decided to get some frozen yogurt on our lunch break. Well, she decided and texted me to ask if I wanted some. Same thing. Anyway. We were walking to Red Mango to get our frozen treat and chatting as we went. I happened to look down the block and noticed a black man approaching. Most of the time, I consider this a normal event and don't write a blog about it. This time was an exception. This particular fellow was angry, as noted by his scowling features and the "Get out of my way!"s that he gave to the people in front of him. Oh, and he was staring at me. Without further speech, this guy stalked up to me, stopped, and inserted his face into my bubble. His glare bounced off of my shades, but his face was about two inches from mine. I consider that to be a little too close for comfort. This is where the teacher in me says that a lesson should be illustrated. Perhaps something along the lines of "don't stereotype", "don't be racist", or "don't fight". Or I could tell you about how I utilized the skills I learned during my decade-and-more of karate training and beating the crap out of this guy for giving me the evil eye. But I won't. What happened? I kept walking with my wife so as not to miss out on frozen yogurt. Let's get a couple of things straightened out so that you follow my reasoning. First, I had no idea who the guy was. Still don't. Not good policy to get in a fistfight with a stranger over who-the-hell-knows-what. Secondly, lest you get the wrong impression, I used what I learned from my karate training. Don't get all "waitaminutewhattheheckareyoutalkingabout" on me yet. Remember that karate is meant for self-defense. And, as I was told by one of the black belts, "Your first option is to run away." The easiest way to defend yourself, as an aikido practitioner could tell you, is to not be there. So, when our belligerent, bellicose, African-American friend decided to be a stone in my path, I chose to be water and flow around him. After slipping past, I heard, "Smart. Smart." No doubt my would-be antagonist meant that I was smart to walk away as he would have beaten me to a pulp. I'm not as certain that a fight would have gone that way, but one can never be certain. I chose to interpret his comment this way: I was smart to avoid a fight because it would have been senseless violence. And because it would have run past my lunch break.