I am ninja.

Normally, this is the kind of thing that a 300 pound gorilla like me should be able to say.  But facts of my ninjadom are a-plenty.

I am ninja FACTS:

FACT 1) I wear a lot of black. This is not a “proof” by any means, but I do believe it contributes to the countless legends surrounding me.

FACT 2) If you have not heard about the ninja legends about me, it’s because I am a ninja. Most people have not even heard about this blog.

FACT 3) I can sneak up on anyone, at almost anytime. Sometimes I make my in-laws scream in terror, sometimes I tickle my kids, I never get caught mid-stride. Lovely Wife looks for me in the house all the time.

FACT 4) I can hide in plain sight. Sometimes I can be with a group of coworkers/friends and have one of them ask where I am. When I say I’m here, they’re always surprised.

FACT 5) I know what you’re thinking.

FACT 6) I would never reveal that I am a ninja. Oups.

Wow, this must be all that it’s cracked up to be

I know what you’re thinking (see FACT5), and let me tell you straight up: No, being a ninja is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

PROOFS:

1) Sometimes I have to wait a long long time before clerks/salespersons notice me. One time I tried to buy a car and had to give up after wondering aimlessly in the showroom for fifty minutes, sitting in all the cars, honking all the horns, opening and closing trunks. I’m almost certain that they called an exorcist when I walked out. This last sentence is totally influenced by watching Flipping Out yesterday.

2) While most of you will never hear people talk about you behind your back, it happens to me all the time. “I’m right here!” I’ll say, waving my arms. “I can hear this!” I’ll whisper in the backstaber’s ear as I twist his neck. Just kidding. Disregard that. Ahem.

3) Those Tabi rub in a displeasing way between my toes.

4) I quit my last job 3 years ago and I still get a paycheck from there. Revenue Canada, I’m kidding! Please don’t audit me.

Like these were not enough proofs, this morning brought the ultimate proof that I am ninja. I got ran over by a bicycle while crossing the street. She tried to catch the light as it turned red and instead of stopping she decided to speed through the pedestrian crosswalk. I had green, so I started to cross, not looking left before I did and WHAM! Our paths collided.

Picture this: Limbs flailling, cul par-dessus tête, scraped knees and elbows, the sound of a head on the pavement and a little girly scream. When the dust settled, she was sprawled face first in the road, bicycle flat on the ground. I was standing up, not a drop of my Starbuck’s Venti White Mocha Americano spilled, House Salad and Wildberries Parfait intact.

It was like she hit a brick wall. A big, soft, cushy brick wall. I offered an apology, said it happened all the time, asked if she was okay. I went on my merry way as she started unbending the frame of her bike. Coworkers walking beside me at the time asked me what happened. Except for one guy, they didn’t see anything.

I am ninja.

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One comment

  1. We have several things in common (or at least in similarity):

    I sometimes dress like a ninja. Just in the winter and only when I’m dressing to ride the bike in the cold.

    Just last week I got nudged by a truck while on my bicycle — I let out a rather manly, scared-as-hell, scream.

    I let out girly screams, too often, when I encounter spiders.

    delmers last blog post..Dinner with Gary

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