“Excuse me, do you…?”
I dislike people. I can like a person, but people en-masse just rub me the wrong way. My friend Doppleganger rationalized it to me as such:
“People are stupid, to varying levels. You’re stupid, I’m stupid, but some are just bread-is-an-animal stupid.” (I might be paraphrasing.)
And the Splurd Crew have adopted the rational that “All people are stupid until they prove themselves to be not-people.”
This isn’t to say I’m mean or snotty to strangers, I believe in respect. I respect you, you respect me. You disrespect me, then I have lost any reason to respect you, so kindly flake off. But, initially, I practice respect.
So today I was waiting for my friend Hazel at Metrotown Mall when this guy comes up to me. He wasn’t even subtle either, he was sort of idly sauntering in the obvious direction of Me-ness. He looked average, a tiny bit rotund, short, and maybe Philipino, not the stereotypical skinny, tall, bearded raver in the street. I kept an eye on him until he vanished from my line of sight because I am leery of people who saunter.
And then he popped out from behind me and said “excuse me.”
“Yes?” I said.
“Do you have-” And I expect him to say ‘a smoke?’ or ‘a light?’ or ‘the time?’ but no it was not to be, he finished with “Back pain?”
“I’m sorry?” I asked.
“Do you have back pain?” he repeated. “I talk to people about their pain.”
“Uh…huh.” I answered, dubiously because I am small and sickly and weary of others by nature. “So you just go around asking people about their back pain?”
“Yeah, I lay my hands on the sick.” He held his palms out. “And heal with the power of Jesus.”
Then I started to laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you my laugh and you may be in pain but Jesus loves you.”
“Riiiight. Well, even if I was in pain, I’m not interested.”
“Are you sure? Jesus doesn’t want you to be in pain.”
I shook my head and smirk. “Pain makes you stronger, dude.”
He was about to mutter “Iiii dunno about that,” as I walked off.
If he pursued it, I would have asked if Jesus could make my leg grow back.
Look, I know I look like an easy mark. I’m a 5′0, asymmetrical, shoulder hunched, hobbling pip-squeak snippet of a girl with an overly defencive and abrasive attitude. I look 10 years younger than I am. My shirt had the god Anubis on it and my pants had a Chinese dragon. Do those sound like the garments of a follower of the lord? Really?
The ultimate irony? The holy crap you gotta be kidding me the timing couldn’t have been more perfect?
I had to get my artificial leg adjusted today.
Praise the lord for modern technology.
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Originally published at Do Not Tamper With. You can comment here or there.