It's A Sign

The SJG never goes looking for signs. Why? I'll tell you why. Because when I look for a sign, it comes up blurry and it's time to get my eyes checked. Clear signs only happen (on the rarest of rare occasions) when I'm not in the market for them. Actually, I was in the market yesterday when something unusual happened. Just as I parked my cart, Estella, my favorite cashier, turned to Jimmy, the bag guy, and said, apropos of bupkis, "Whatchu talkin' bout, Willis?" I thought I was hearing wrong. "Estella, did you just say, 'Whatchu talkin' bout, Willis?' " "Yes, I did." "My dad came up with that line." "He did?" "Yes. He wrote for 'Diff'rent Strokes.' When you said that, it made me smile. I miss him so much." "Ever watch 'Long Island Psychic? There's a reason I said it. He's checking in with you." "Really?" "I never say, 'Whatchu talkin' bout, Willis?' but I said it just now, out of nowhere. Your father is sending you a sign. He's always with you." "I'll take it. Thank you, Estella. You made my day." "I'm so glad. That'll be $124.62."

Here's my dad explaining to Dan Harrison, mensch of all mensches, how "Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Willis?" came to be (courtesy of EMMYTVLEGENDS.ORG).