2001-08-27 � brimstone

Last week was the first week of school. I'm very excited to have started my third and final year of law school. The best part of last week was noting all the new faces. For example all the creepy first years are wandering around all scared and silly looking. Ha Ha. Silly first years! In your face! Huzah!

My favorite new face on campus, however, is not a new student. He is our brand spanking new crazy-ass, long haired, camo wearin', fundamentalist, missionary, derelict, preacher guy. Now, I know what you're saying. How could an unkempt crazy guy who wanders around a college campus located conveniently in the ghetto wearing a back pack with a frame like a hiker possibly stick out from the crowd enough to catch your attention, Brian? Well, my friend, I'll tell you.

Last Wednesday I was out at Lou's truck. (A little digression here. These food trucks are a cultural thing that occur in some of the densely populated areas on the east coast. They are little silver boxes on wheels that set themselves up on street corners. Inside you will find an immigrant who can somehow prepare an absolutely amazing lunch given that there is not much in the way of facilities within the silver box on wheels. They manage to jam a lot in anyway. When I first moved up here I found them absolutely fascinating. "Why is there a concession stand on the street corner in the ghetto?" I would ask. I'd be told that's Lou's lunch truck, it's not a concession stand. Whatever.)

Anyway I was at Lou's truck to get a soda to sip during class when the crazy-ass, preacher guy came up to me and offered me a little dealy-whoppy he had typed up. I presume it contained a pearl of wisdom designed to save my soul. I don't know for sure because, as is my practice, I politely refused it.

My refusal pissed him off. He put his body between me and the immigrant in the silver box on wheels. His eyes were all crazed and his breath smelled like a periodontist's retirement fund. "Hey man," he said, "Jesus loves you! I really believe this stuff!" I commented how it was good to have something to believe. It was a dismissive comment presented in such a way as to communicate my desire to end the interaction.

"What do you believe in, man?" He was twitching a little and snarling an angry snarl at me.

"Well, I believe first and foremost in my right to protect myself from physical harm and as a result of this heartfelt belief I will put you down if you touch me. Other than that, I believe in not continuing a conversation with you."

The volume was growing a bit. Lou was growing edgy in his shiny silver box. He has that immigrant sort of, you know, sense of customer service. It's supposed to be a happy sidewalk with a shiny silver box. If it isn't people won't spend money.

"You're gonna find yourself wishing you had heard me. You're going to Hell and the only way to avoid it is through Him. You have to start magnifying Him and reducing yourself."

"I don't even know what that means. You're not saying anything."

He persisted. "Jesus loves you, you fucking sinner!" He wagged his filth encrusted finger in my face, "you'd better get yourself right with the Lord or you'll have eternal damnation, mother fucker!"

It was clear he was a schizophrenic out patient off his meds. I told him I'd get a cop if he didn't get lost. He staggered off a bit mumbling about how I was demon possessed and I'd pay for that. He babbled in tongues a little and gave me the evil eye.

I've since seen him on campus twice more. He approaches me every time he sees me and tries to give me the home made pamphlet dealy. Our exchanges are virtually identical every time.

I fear that someday his "I'm a soldier of the Lord" schtick will transform itself into something involving tactics a little more dangerous than the art of persuasion. Looks like I'll be wearing a flack suit to school from now on.

Posted at 2:54 p.m.

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