A Walk in the Clouds

Okay, not really. It was a walk, yes. But in the clouds? No. The scene was Euclid Avenue, St. Louis, Missouri. The day, yesterday, June 17th. The time, 9:30am. The cross-streets, Laclede and Forest Park. There was a crazy man walking down the street calling out to people, "hello! Good morning, excuse me, excuse me. Please, when you are about to go to sleep tonight, raise your hands in prayer for me. Ask the Lord to protect me and save me. God bless." It is a fact that no city becomes great without first having a lot of crazy people asking you to pray for them (and for yourself). So New York City, watch out... the gateway city is moving up!

Anyway, so I ignored him, because if I had time to waste asking Allah to protect random lunatics on the street, I'd probably also have been able to write this entry yesterday rather than today. So anyway, the mad man has moved on asking other people to pray for him and what not, and then this guy who was sitting outside a cafe having his breakfast, and who I thought I had left way behind, shows up next to me and starts talking. It was one of those, I-know-you-just-ran-to-catch-up-to-me moments, combined with an I-know-you're-trying-to-make-random-conversation-based-on-a-silly-occurrence-we-both-witnessed-thinking-we-have-somehow-bonded-when-in-reality-I-am-somewhat-afraid-of-you-but-would-have-been-flattered-had-you-only-been-cute ones. For what reason he did this, I am not sure. But when you're as gorgeous as I am, these things happen. I know, it's not easy being perfect, but don't cry for me. I have gotten used to it. So anyway, random guy starts talking and I have no idea what he's saying so I'm like, "what?" and he says something incoherent, and I answer, "yeah, I guess so." I was guessing that he was saying something about the crazy guy being crazy. Usually, "yeah, I guess so" works in most awkward contexts. We can explore that theory in another post. So where were we? Yes, random guy is talking incoherently. Next thing he starts adding, "yeah, he must be Christian." So I'm giving the awkward grin where you're trying to be completely neutral but not too rude. "All Christians are crazy", he continues. My grin remains. Difficult to keep up, but still there. Then he adds, "Christians and Muslims... all crazy." Except he pronounced "Muslims" as "MOZ-LEMZ" which I HATE. I mean, you might as well call me a ragheaded camel jockey if you're gonna call me a mozlem. Okay, maybe not, but I hate to hear the word so brutally and savagely destroyed, okay? By this time, I think my awkward grin vanished. I reply, "well not all of them," to which he says, "well, I think all. But not Hindus. Hindus are okay." Clearly this idiot had hedged his bets on the fact that I'm Hindu. Maybe in his little pea-sized mind, he thought we would bond further over the fact that I was able to run into a stranger who not only shared my hatred of Christians and Muslims, but loved my Hindu people. How awkward. And to make matters worse, he kept walking along beside me. I was wondering whether this was when I was supposed to say, "sorry, not interested. I am married." Then I began to wonder if this was a story that would later appear on the front page of the newspapers, "Wash U grad student attacked by Islamophobic assailant with knife." It made sense; maybe he was trying to determine that I'm Muslim so he could stab me. I was getting ready to scratch his eyes out, when he said, "okay, I am turning here. Bye." It was so awkward, but I was relieved. I hope I never see him again.