Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Another Chapter in the "While Sitting in Dupont Circle" Story

On Monday, during this unusually warm January, I ate my lunch outside in the park. I was just one of many enjoying the latest round of global warming, and with the benches full, I sat on the fountain stairs. With my lunch finished and still a good bit of my break remaining, I took out my Smithsonian magazine and started reading. Just a few sentences into an article, I was interrupted by a man who had just sat down next to me.

"Did you just sigh?" he asked. Confused over whether he was talking to me, I replied, "What?" and then realizing he was talking to me, I said, "No, I don't think I did." I sized him up quickly in my mind. A little shabby looking, a hint of B.O., but nothing compared to many others I'd met in the park before. Probaby homeless, I thought, but maybe not. Hard to tell.

He continued talking, "Lunch break over soon?"
"Yep," I replied, "just a few more minutes." My standard response when random strangers start talking to me.
"What's your name?" He asks, and I volunteer my first name. No harm. "I'm Ron (or was it Roy?)," he says. "So what do you do?"
"I do advocacy work for low income children."
He nodded. "I work for a church."
I start thinking that maybe that explains his appearance. Maybe he's not homeless but does outreach to the homeless. Maybe he tries to relate to them. Maybe he's just a guy looking to chat.

"Oh," I said, "What do you do for the church?"
"I'm the Lord." Matter of fact. Just like that. The Lord.
Wow, I'm thinking, a real nut. Completely crazy. "So what kind of church is it?" I ask, thinking that it's strange that the Lord should work for a church. Shouldn't he be founding a church? In the back of my mind, I start philosophizing about how hard it would be for the Lord to return these days because we'd all write him off as crazy.
"Mainly Catholic..." he trails off.

I just nod. I don't know what to say. I wasn't prepared to have a conversation with the Lord. I try to turn back to my article, but he pushes along with his conversation, asking me if I'd heard of him or talked about him with others. I don't know how to answer. I mean, yes, I've heard of and talked about the Lord, but no, I have never heard of or talked about this crazy man next to me. I shrug and avoid his questions. I try to read more. He starts mumbling under his breath. He starts rhyming things that make no sense. He asks if I like his limericks. He talks about Saturn kicking his ass. I end my lunch break a bit early and head back to the office. I wonder what it would really be like if the Lord returned. I wonder how we'd know it was him and not just some crazy guy. I wonder if there'd really be that much difference.

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