Sanity and Beer Muscles

"Anybody have a virtue they'd like to discuss? I asked the group when we got started again.

"Sanity," Michaela said, shooting daggers at Emu.

"Something you want to share with the group?" I asked her. Emu chuckled.

"Laugh it up, but I'm not visiting your grave when you get shot!" Michaela shouted.

"It wasn't that big of a deal," Emu said.
"I was coming out of the grocery store when I saw two guys arguing about a parking spot. I stepped between them. Michaela pulled up and caught the tail end of their argument."

"They were insane! They were threatening to kill each other over a parking spot! You were insane for getting involved!"

"She has a point," I said, "but didn't it feel good to be the sane one?"

"It really did," Emu said. "When I drank, my beer muscles got me into trouble. Some sane person had to step between me and whoever was about to kick my butt. Kind of felt like I was returning the favor."

"What are 'beer muscles'?" James asked.

"Beer muscles are really a change in perception." Emu said. "The huge guy in the mixed martial arts t-shirt, the one quietly talking to his friends? Beer tells you he's just asking for trouble, and since you wrestled half a season in junior high, you're just the man to trouble him."

Today I will be grateful for sane people.
AArdvarks (c) 2013 by Ken Montrose