Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Crazy Subway Person #1: The Proselytizing Jamaican Guy

I see lots of crazy people on the subway. So I decided to write about them. Starting with this gem, the Proselytizing Jamaican Guy. Ahem...

This morning, some old Jamaican dude got on the train and starts preaching about God, Jesus, and about how if we don't believe in Him/Them, we're all going to Hell. Now, I have nothing against Jamaicans, nor do I have anything against old men. And I don't really have anything against Christianity, or those that practice it, for the most part.

But I REALLY have something against somenoe standing a foot away from me, preaching in a REALLY LOUD VOICE about how the day of JUDGEMENT is coming and how I'm going to HELL if I don't devote my life to Jesus... at 9 in the MORNING on my WAY TO WORK.

I'm a nice person. I like people. And in general, I like that people have the right to say and believe whatever they damn well please. Go America. But despite my general good natured tendencies, vivid visions of the following scenarios unfolded in my head during my, normally peaceful, commute:

a) I turn around and punched the old bastard in the face, evoking, at first, gasps of surprise from the occupants of the subway car, followed quickly by thunderous applause.

b) When the train makes its next stop, I casually grab the back of his jacket and walk him, firmly, to the threshold of the train car. I then politely throw him out onto the platform. Again, the gasps and applause would follow.

c) During one of his emphatic rants about how Hell is very, very, very, very, very bad, I would raise my hand and ask, in a rather obnoxious and asinine manner, "Um, excuse me? Crazy man? I have a question: how bad is Hell? Very? Or 'very very'? I wasn't clear on that last part. Can you be more specific?" Train car denizens would chuckle at my satirical wit.

d) But what I really wanted, with all my heart, was for some random occurance to cause him to shut up. For instance, the train stops suddenly, sending him tumbling forward, bringing an end to his incessant jabbering. I'd see this happen and without hesitating I'd scream, "THANK GOD!" The train would then erupt in laughter and applause and I'd exit the car with a smug, asshole-ish smile on my face.

Why did I feel completely justified in imagining these things? Yes, the guy's annoying, but really, did he do anything to harm me? No. But, I'm willing to bet that if God really does exist, I'm sure he realizes that the worst time to try to convince someone he's the Lord and Savior is during rush hour on a crowded New York subway car. And I can't imagine he's super happy that this insane person is representing him, either.

-e

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