I had a meeting in the Financial District at 2pm and on my way home I usually walk by the Metreon. I was looking at my phone trying to find somebody nearby who might be interested in going to a movie with me, only to look up to see this:
That’s right, Storm Troopers on my turf. And, well, any Jedi worthy of the name knows what I had to do next. Lightsaber time, baby.
After that was through, and the remaining Storm Troopers had come to my side, George and I became best friends. We hung out, had drinks, told each other our darkest secrets, fought over women and reached a zen-like state of enlightenment together through the practice of meditation, all in the time-span of a short, eye-contact-lacking handshake. I’m never washing my hand again.