There were three of them, two watching the one in the parking space of the car they had just gotten out of. He was demonstrating, though not on anyone or anything, so his expertise wasn't exactly discernible, per se--there was nothing to measure the veracity of his skill against. He might be a master, but all I could tell was he was shitfaced and showing the others what appeared to be karate. It was 4:49 pm, on level two of the parking lot of the downtown Target.
Maybe he was showing them how he had beaten someone's ass in some bar parking lot circa Back of The Yards. Or maybe he was showing them, perfectly, how to defend themselves from an attacking dog--the kicks and chops were aimed kind of low. When he was done they were still looking down at his hands, which were animating his story, they weren't looking at where they were going, where the blackbelt was leading them, which was away from the Target and towards the ramp of oncoming traffic. Once headlights were upon them they realized they were on the wrong path and turned around, wobbling towards the store.
I was there for a lampshade. I imagined they were there to eat dinner at the Li'l Ceasars in the Target Cafe.Posted by jessica hopper at November 16, 2009 06:59 PM | TrackBack