COMMENTS & CURIOSITIES:

Some days are better than others. Like you didn’t know that.

Late Thursday afternoon, there was a lot more going on at the Ralphs store on 17th Street than a dollar off vine-ripened tomatoes with your club card.

According to Costa Mesa police, a young man named José Jiménez — who probably has no idea why people my age smile every time they hear his name — decided to pick up a few things at Ralphs, but apparently either forgot to pay for them or misunderstood the concept of “you give me Snack Wells, I give you money.”

Doing his best Emmitt Smith imitation, Jiménez grabbed the goods and sprinted for daylight, breaking left then right then out the door. A Ralphs employee, as yet unnamed, said “not in my checkout line” or words to that effect, and raced after Jiménez . But Jiménez didn’t just fall off the radicchio truck. He had a plan.

An equally ill-behaved partner was waiting for him at the door in a 2004 Toyota Tacoma. Jiménez hopped into the truck bed with the hot groceries but as the getaway driver put the pedal to the metal, Jiménez toppled out, obviously ignoring the yellow and black sticker that says, “Never ride or place animals in truck bed during robberies or while evading arrest.”

A brief shoving/shouting /finger-in-chest poking match ensued between Jiménez and the Ralphs employee, by which time the police arrived and explained to Jiménez how deeply disappointed they were in him. As it turned out, the tussle with the Ralphs employee was the final bad decision in a series of bad decisions and elevated the charges against Jiménez from petty theft to robbery.

Not quite the crime of the century, but what caught my attention was where it happened — Ralphs on 17th Street — which has a direct connection to one of my all-time favorite crimes in the Newport-Mesa Bad Boy/Bad Girl Hall of Fame.

It wasn’t quite the lady on ice at the Fairmont Hotel, which wins the Palme d’Or anywhere, anytime — but close. See if this name rings a bell: Brianna Catherine Cery. No? Let me help. In 2004, Brianna made an unauthorized withdrawal from the Bank of America on Newport Center Drive.

Brianna, a blond, was stylish as bank-robbers go, in designer jeans and a tank top, except the hair wasn’t real and neither was the name. Brianna Catherine Cery was actually Bryan Cery, a 53-year transvestite who was Bryan on some days, and Brianna on others. Apparently, on the day of the bank job, it was Brianna’s turn.

Robbing banks was only a part-time job for Bryan/Brianna. His day job was at, yes, Ralphs on 17th Street. For a supermarket, Ralphs on 17th Street has it goin’ on, I tell you. How was Brianna/Bryan caught? That’s what elevates the story from one more bank robbery to a bank job for the ages. A customer — somehow oblivious to the heist in progress but apparently a regular at Ralphs on 17th Street — recognized Cery and wanted to say hi.

Don’t you hate that? You put on the wig, pull on the pantyhose and the jeans and the heels, drive all the way to the bank, pull out your gun and someone says, “Oh hey, Bryan, I thought that was you.”

Which leads me to wonder exactly when did the customer decide that it was a good idea to walk up to the cross-dressing bank robber, tap him on the shoulder and say, “Hey, Bry, I was in the other day and you’re still out of Snapple Diet Peach. And what happened to the roasted beet and sweet potato salad? That was awesome.”

When the police showed up, the friendly chatty perky customer told them everything they needed to know about Bryan from Ralphs, and it took the cops about four minutes to get Bryan’s name and address from his boss back on 17th Street.

When Cery showed up at his Long Beach home about 10 that night — working two jobs makes for a long day — he had company, lots of it. Inside the house, police found the loot, the gun and some notes about the robbery, which happens so often and always seems so loopy. Once you’ve made the stunningly bad decision to rob a bank, how hard can it be? Do you really need a list? “Put on wig; wear flats, not heels; bring gun and note; get gas.”

Truth be told, Ralphs on 17th Street is not my store, but I’m switching, effective immediately. You can get the organic stuff anywhere, but robbers being chased through the parking lot and cross-dressing bank robbers are harder to find. I gotta go.

PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Sundays. He may be reached at ptrb4@aol.com.