. . .there is an AIDS walk in Boston. These next two bits happened within a couple of hours apart and span the chasm of the pro and con of activists.
Trust me, I think the crunchy, granola head do-gooder got it worse.
A sternly attired woman approached me. At first it was just another transaction. Which, as you’ve come to expect, turned into another hock into the weirdness spittoon.
While I’m concentrating on my part of the transaction she asks if I’m a religious man. I tell her that, being in a place of business who I am compensated to represent, I do not answer any questions not pertaining to the business at hand.
But that never seems to work.
It’s not that they get me to testify it’s just that they continue down the path of righteous indignation. It’s almost to a person. They tell me that, as a Christian (please note: I have not affiliated myself to any religious dogma to them. It’s the assumption of the righteous), I should be able to speak of my beliefs at all times.
“I don’t think my boss would much care for that.”
I’m sure no one wants to hear that, in my religion, the sacrament is the tears of horny virgin women sipped out of a plastic pimp cup.
So, my attempts at moving this entire conversation to the door failing, she begins to ask other questions. She asks if I’ll be available this weekend. I tell her I am not. That, heathen that I am, I even work on the sabbath.
“That’s too bad.” She begins to spout. “Because we’re having a prayer vigil at the AIDS walk they’re having in Boston.”
I don’t want to jump to conclusions here. Maybe they’re going to gather their goodness and pray for a cure. Ha! That may be the biggest lie I’ve ever typed! I knew exactly where this was going and could tell you when it would end: soon.
She goes right into the blasphemous lifestyle that lead to that disease being brought into our, before then, pristine and germ (and you’d have to assume gay) free universe.
I explain that, although she can have any opinion she’d like concerning this or any other subject, I am running a business so I’d prefer that, if our transaction is complete and she’s been told that I am not available to join in their Clay Aiken effigy burning, she should, please, end this public discussion.
As nice as I thought that was, she disagreed. I’m now on their side as she sees it.
“You should follow the bible as the guide of your life and after life.”
“Ma’am,” I say in another of my long line of attempted conversation enders. “I wouldn’t follow a fifty year old electrical guide to rewire my house so what chance does a work of fiction a couple thousand years old have?”
I’m sure I get prayed for WAY more than average.