every so often i miss us having our office downtown…
…there’s something so cosmopolitan about being able to say, “i’m gonna go downtown to the office for a little while.”, ya know? but now we’re in west austin, and it’s prettier, and the air is cleaner, and the view is better; but the commute jumped from 30 miles one way to 43 miles one way from my house, and there’s no place to grab lunch near by.
you know what i don’t miss? that theological raping that goes on in the congress avenue area known as “street preaching”. i’ve always heard that too much of a good thing is a bad thing, and if loving god is a good thing, these guys exemplify the BAD thing.
one day, one of them stopped me, and i was actually able to shut him up. and amuse myself at the same time. i told this story to kathi and kramer last night, and they were surprised it had never ended up here; but said it should. so here is the conversation i had with the street preacher. y’all get the sober version. kathi and kramer got the half sober version last night after i had drank the two rounds of margaritas for ME, but was starting on the two for the party guest who unfortunately could not attend….and then the one we split amongst…well..me. but i digress…
the chat…13:12, CST, on congress and seventh, right in front of schlotzsky’s deli, downtown austin, tx 78701 USA…friday, the 12th of april, 2k2
“sir, the lord jesus christ is coming…will you let him into your life?”
*i stop walking and turn around, sandwich and soda in hand*
“i said the lord jesus christ is coming back soon…will you take him in and welcome him?”
“what? so this jesus guy is coming and needs a place to crash or something? sure…i’ve got a guest room…put me down for the last week in may”
“no..sir…i don’ think you….”
“dude….it’s NO problem. always willing to help those who need it, and you seem like a stand up guy…i’ll put your buddy jesus up for a week, no rent or anything; just thank me in your group’s little pamphlet you’re handing out there…but he has to follow three rules…”
*his turn to steal my line, but he said it slower and almost shakily drawn out*
“three rules, bro…and your buddy can stay…no long distance calls, no pay-per-view cable, and no bringing some skeezy-assed hoes over to my house”
*now he’s getting mad…and he almost shouts this next line*
“sir, i am talking about the SON OF GOD!!!!”
*to which i reply, starting off as loud as he left off*
“I DON’T CARE WHO HIS DADDY IS!!!! i’m not gonna have him run up my phone or cable bill and ditch the bill on my charitable ass or bring some piece of cheap pussy in my house that ends up stealing my shit on her way back to the free clinic. fuck that. but if he’s cool with no ld calls, no porn on the tv ‘cept for what i already got at the crib, and no tramps over unless i know who they are and/or get cut in on the action, then we’re all good. ain’t no fun if the homey’s can’t have none, know what i’m saying?”
*at this point he’s speechless and his jaw is hanging open, so he forfeits his turn*
“so, as long as your buddy jesus..that WAS his name right? is he from mexico or something? anyway…as long as he doesn’t rack up my bills, cleans up after himself, and makes sure my dick gets JUST as wet as his if he brings a chick or two over, we’re all good. and if he IS from mexico, he better bring me some of that GOOD shit to smoke, or he’s gonna have to chip in for food. work for you? i’ll drop a business card with you later so you can call me and let me know when to expect him…”
*at this point he’s not just speechless…he’s fucking cat o’ tonic. so i HAVE to spike the ball…*
“ya know, knowing your helping others feels almost better than good head, good booze, and good weed COMBINED. i’m liking this…”
*i reach out and put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze…to be truthful, at this point i was checking for a pulse…*
“have a nice day…brother”
and i walked off. i NEVER saw that guy on congress again. i think i shut that one down for GOOD.