It would appear the devil is afoot at my local sandwich shop. My wife made sure I didn’t confront the devil, as much as I was tempted. And boy, was I tempted. I’ve listened to many Pentecostal and Charismatic Christian sermons so I’m well informed that the devil can manifest himself in ways beyond the awkward whiff of sulfur and brimstone.
In this particular case, the leathery winged one took the form of five little old ladies holding a writing circle over tomato bisque and chipotle chicken avocado melts. Ok, that was what I was having, I couldn’t tell what they were eating. Gobbets of flesh rent from the backs of the innocent, presumably. Oh, the devil was in fine disguise, I’ll grant you. These ladies looked like they were taking a break from a nearby librarians’ seminar. Sweater coats, thick rimmed glasses, not a one of them under 65.
While I couldn’t discern whose baby they were feasting on, I could easily hear what they said. As my wife and I begin to settle into our lunch, I hear one of these sweet little old ladies say to the one directly opposite her, “We have to set up a prayer circle this March 17th to counteract the witches who have cast a spell against our government and President Trump. Have you heard? Apparently the international coven of witches has cast an evil spell on our President!”
Now at first, I chuckled. I thought she was being snarky, you see. Because yes, there was some group of wiccans who got together to cast a spell – that’s not the point. There was just no way anyone could take that bullshit seriously. But the sincerity in her voice mixed with the horrified expression on the woman sitting across from her, who I had a perfect view of, the woman who replied with an earnest, “The devil is walking the Earth right now seeking to devour who he may!”, convinced me they were quite serious.
It was like stumbling across a feral tribe in the Amazon. You know they exist but you never expect to see them in person.
Woman number two continues: “We’ve got to send the power of prayer to President Trump, Christians will never submit to Satan’s puppets.”
At this point, I feel my own righteous rumble begin to gather.
Only to be immediately extinguished by the calm, serene, very much aware, one might even say angelic, gaze of my wife sitting across from me.
And that’s how I really knew there wasn’t five little old ladies sitting over badly written fiction (I had to listen to that too, as if I needed any further evidence) and broccoli soup.
It was the devil.
Only the devil would know how to torment me so. On the one hand, I have humans engaging in loud public discourse about complete and total horse hooey – contrary to the laws of physics, the rules of reason, and the court of common sense. As an educated human, an educator at heart, and a concerned citizen, I cannot let this idiocy go unaddressed.
On the other hand, I have my wife. She does not share my views on spontaneously educating five little old ladies over tomato bisque and chipotle chicken avocado melts. This is clearly apparent in her angelic expression.
But the torment doesn’t stop there. Oh no.
For the next 20 minutes I engage in a herculean effort of focus. Keeping my attention on my wife’s conversation to me and not on the continuing hash of magical thinking, right wing politics, and character critiques. Their character’s dialogue alone made me want to start overturning tables.
Torture. Fucking torture.
Well played Lucifer. Well played.
In the end though, I resisted temptation. I finished my lunch, bussed my own table, and refilled my wife’s beverage. At no point did the seething cauldron of my – irritation, frustration, annoyance, desire to contradict, or at least say something along the lines of “Careful ladies! I hear bigfoot is walking the Earth seeking to devour… or mate with…, who he may!” – ever ghost across my features as I left the establishment.
No. I took the high road. With bigfoot and Elvis on the back of a unicorn.
And I’m damn sure going to use it as my pass through the pearly gates.