It was May the Fourth, and feeling particularly Jedi-like, I strutted through the galaxy–okay, my local coffee shop–with my lightsaber-shaped straw and a “May the Fourth Be With You” T-shirt.
I’d practiced my best Yoda impression all morning, muttering, “Mmm, coffee, I must have.”
The barista, unimpressed, just raised an eyebrow.
Stepping up to order, I channeled my inner Obi-Wan. “A coffee, you will make me,” I said, waving my hand dramatically, hoping for a laugh.
But then—whoosh—something weird happened. The barista’s eyes widened, and the young woman clutched her throat and started gasping.
My hand was still outstretched, and I froze. Had I caused the barista to choke with my mind?
The other customers stared, wondering if Darth Vader had taken over my body. The barista, thankfully, coughed and waved it off, muttering about allergies.
Quietly, I slunk to a corner booth, vowing never to pretend to do a Jedi mind trick again, and as I sipped my coffee, I heard a kid nearby whisper, “Mom, is that guy a Sith?”
I sank low in my seat.
May the Fourth, ha! More like may the force save me from further embarrassment.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
Leave a comment