Joe

That Trader Joe’s Employee,

Let me tell you of his story.

He was an expert bagger,

Over no food items did he stagger.

So glad was he to be employed,

That when he was promoted, he was overjoyed.

One day, it was busy, he was drawn to his boss,

Who said that a position was open; they had just had a loss.

The employee was joyful—it was a chance

To show the world he could be a boss that could dance.

He was just the night manager, just as a start,

But he was quickly promoted to the day shift because of his heart.

He was an absolute ruler of righteous proportions,

For with him at the helm, he guided the store through life’s oceans.

He had many a dance move, that he was known for flaunting,

His enchufla, his gancho, his robot were daunting.

But he was called to his boss once more and commanded to stop,

For many a customer threatened with the cops.

Crushed, the employee felt down on his luck,

For perhaps it was his moves, perhaps his moves suck.

But that was not the way to think, not for this guy,

Because his devotion to the moves, made him feel up in the sky.

So he continued to dance, if not in secret,

And he entrusted random strangers to keep it.

And one of those strangers just happened to be a little young boy, by the name of me.

As the manager was doing his job at top level,

He stopped to talk to me, a boy, a bit disheveled.

I was standing agape, looking at fruit snacks,

While the manager that danced was filling some racks.

He looked down at the boy, with a question in mind,

Little did he know, the impact he would leave behind.

“Do you want to see a dance move?” asked he;

I was super scared, so I was about to pee/flee.

There was little I could do, so he hopped on down,

To show me that he indeed could hit the town.

A pirouette, a plie, a leap galore,

And as I stood up staring, I wanted to see more.

His dancing amazed me, and what was the result?

His story was written, the story of the Trader Joe’s dolt.