I was late to the closing on my condo. I'd gotten lost.in the middle of my new hometown. I parked, grabbed the cat's travel box, my handbag, my briefcase and ran.
As I neared my destination, I noticed a white-haired, white-bearded homeless white man in full spate between me and the door I needed. I headed pell-mell toward him anyway. Screaming or not, he looked too involved to come after me.
As I ran closer, I could hear him. "I Am God! I Am God! I Am God!
Whoops. Religion ups the stakes, too much. I slowed down. But he'd singled me out too. He turned to me.
"I Am God!"
A million things crowded my mind, such as: Nope/I Hope Not/Blasphemy/Delusions of Grandeur/Don't Agree With a Crazy Man When He's Wrong/ Don't Disagree With a Crazy Man When He's Riled/ Don't Tell A Lie
"Well, you're certainly full of the spirit, anyway," I answered.
Wonder of wonders: he calmed down. "Yes, I am," he said. "I am full of the spirit."
Made it to the closing with the cat and all. I don't know why I was worried--I was the woman with the checkbook.
No comments:
Post a Comment