Yes. Doomed. The great dude in the sky is watching, and he’s mighty pissed, let me tell ya, boy. Wait till he gets his hands on you, they said. Boiling for eternity can be a pretty gruesome pastime.
Who’s “they”, I hear you ask? They’re your only hope, Obi Wan. Apparently it’s what they’ve witnessed that makes them so bloody righteous – or at least it’s something that some dude witnessed some hundred years ago. Then he told someone, who told some other guy, and pretty soon you got some serious serial witnessing going on. And yesterday they came to witness my sheer ignorance of what the first dude said.
I must admit, I’m a sucker for clichés. Ranging from the mild “what, you’ve lost HIM again?” to the obscure “I’m not sure my religion is legal in this country”. Like you, I’ve read them all and laughed about it, while secretly wondering whatever could motivate these guys to get up in the morning and go at it, knowing full well that they’ll encounter mostly laughter and scorn. However, when facing the golden opportunity, I cracked. I was all polite and stuff, the smiling and firm heathen stereotype, if you know what I mean. I even managed to dodge the complimentary brochure and sent them on their way in less than two minutes. It was a great show of civil behavior. Man, how could I miss such a chance! I’m still cringing inside.
The question remains though. How do they do it? Is it a form of penance, being verbally abused all day long? Or are most people like me, missing their chances, and the ones who are actually doing it are few and far between? Talking about it, I hear that religion can offer great support in times of need – and seeing these guys on the street, I tend to believe it. Is it the right kind of support though? Good question.
In the mean time, I’m doomed. Toast. Marshmallows. Can you grasp the sheer size of it? I mean, even HE won’t forgive me for missing such an opportunity. Oh man.