Big building… Conference… Junk food…
Noise. People walking. Free cookies.
Went to the Coding Slave dinner last night. Went splendidly. Had a turnout of about fourteen people, and we took over a nice oval table at a nearby bar where we ate marginal Mexican food while conversing about absolutely everything. Good experience.
Left. Walking back to the hotel. Feeling good.
And then…
…I was descended upon by what looked like a roaming band of zombie youth. The tallest one in the group addressed me:
What he said: Hey, there, friend. How are you?
What I said: I’m tired.
What I was thinking: This is going to get weird.
What he said: Tired? That’s life, friend.
What I said: Yeah.
What I was thinking: I was right. This is going to get weird.
What he said: Do you see these people I’m with? These are my nine friends here.
What I said: Oh.
What I was thinking: Oh.
What he said: Do you want to know something, friend?
What I said: Yes.
What I was thinking: No.
What he said: Not one of them is worried about being tired. Do you know why?
What I said: No.
What I was thinking: Meth?
What he said: It’s because they’ve all found Jesus, my friend.
What I said: Really.
What I was thinking: Where? At a bus stop? Under the couch cushions while looking for change?
What he said: Have you ever thought about what Jesus could do for you?
What I said: Not much, really. Religion isn’t my thing.
What I was thinking: If your god really is omnipotent and omniscient as your people claim, then he’s directly responsible for my mother’s stroke and the fact that my sister has been deaf since she was about three. If the Lord, or Jesus, or one of their henchmen ever happens to appeareth before me, I just hope that I remember, among the pyrotechnic light show that should accompany any such apparition, to kick God square in the nuts as a “thank you” for services rendered. [Note: If anybody is offended by this, then remember that God in his omnipotence is entirely responsible for my having said what I’ve just said – this was all God’s will.]
What he said: That’s OK, bro. I’ll be praying for you.
What I said: Thanks. I really appreciate that.
What I was thinking: If you really want to waste your time praying, then could you at least pray for me to win the lottery?
What he said: Been to the pool in the hotel yet? We’re all heading there later for a party. You ought to go.
What I said: Awesome.
What I was thinking: Mental note: Avoid the pool at all costs. In case these guys run into me in the elevator later on, then remember to take the cyanide suicide pill kept in the heel of my left shoe.
What he said: Well, good night, brother. I hope to see you at the pool later, and I hope that you’ll one day realize what Jesus can do for you.
What I said: Totally.
What I was thinking: Maybe he could do my ironing.
According to a study that I read recently, I’m probably offending nine out of ten of my readers. At the same time, though, I’m not the one who accosted someone at night and tried to sell him my belief system. It’s always creeped me out that some of the more determined soldiers in the army of God tend to talk about Jesus almost as though he were a used car or a kitchen appliance that can just be accepted and put to work.
And now, back to TechEd…
