Gas gets steadily more affordable as one leaves the Florida Keys, passes through Miami, crosses Alligator Alley, and procedes north on I75. One does not want to buy much more at $3.35/gallon than necessary, when 50 miles down the road it will be $3.19.
That's why, today, I found myself in pretty serious need of gas on the Alley (that's the empty stretch of 75 that crosses from Miami to Naples). So I stopped at the Mobil station on the Indian reservation.
I gassed up, used the bathroom (it smelled), then wandered into the store for water, cigarettes and a snack. As soon as I walked in, a guy stepped up to me. A very large, bald, muscular, intimidating guy. Did I mention he was really big?
To my deep, sincere and heartfelt relief, he smiled. "I like your bumpersticker," he growled, with some very heavy accent. "The one about Israel."
I have an "I support Israel" sticker on my Jeep.
"Oh," said I. "Thanks." I grabbed my water and a snack (which I am not confessing the specifics of because it's pathetic) and got in line. The very large man was in front of me, with a small boy maybe eight years old.
He smiled again. I think he realized he'd scared the bejesus out of me.
"I'm from Israel," he said.
"That's cool," I answered. "I've never been there, but someday I'd like to go." I would, and it seemed like an appropriate response.
"What's the other sticker, the one with the knife?" he asked.
"An Army combat action badge," I answered. It's not much - it basically says, something unfortunate happened to me and I didn't run screaming, but I'm proud of it.
He smiled again and left, and the cashier rang up my stuff, which came to a little over $6.
"Were you in Iraq?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said. And the bill magically decreased to $5. "Hey, thanks." I smiled, she smiled. That's an awkward moment, but an appreciated one.
As I walked out the door, the small boy who belonged to the large man came running up to me.
"My Dad said you should take his card." He held out a business card.
Huh? I took the card, thanked the boy (who ran away), and headed back to the Jeep. As I walked, I glanced down.
I, apparently, had encountered Mr. Mike Lee Kanarek, chief instructor at this place.
According to his biography, I was entirely correct to be very happy he approved of my bumpersticker.
Between the ages of 6 and 18, Mike studied judo and then karate until joining the IDF at age 18 in 1985. After serving three years as a Special Forces member in Orev Golani (one of the most elite commando units in the IDF) where he was extensively trained in KAPAP among other combative methodologies and technologies, Mike was honorably discharged as an outstanding soldier.
It goes on from there.
Now, this is the internet, and it's hard to tell for sure how much truth is in anything out there, but since Mr. Kanarek is, if nothing else, a large and intimidating man, I will officially err on the trusting side. He gets an impressed daaamn from me.
And other than being big and scary, he was a very polite man, and the boy who was with him (I assume his son) also appeared polite and well-mannered.
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