Thursday, August 1, 2013

Doorman Has a Run-in with the Devil

Today I had an experience that was something out of a David Lynch film:

It was around 3:30pm and Shitdick had gone for a smoke, so I was left to deal with the nonsense. Thursday isn't my usual day of work, and I had just spent the morning helping my new roommate move in, so I was a little fucking cranky. (As if you really need me to explain why I hate being at work anymore, but a little pretense gets my writing juices flowing. Go fuck yourself.) 

As I unloaded a taxi for a family of mouth-breathing Times Square-goers, I turned to see the scariest man I've ever seen standing right in front of me. 

He was a black man (I know I'm treading on thin ice because of my previous post, but I have to paint a picture, god dammit. Go fuck yourself.), and was clearly homeless due to the blue sweatsuit that was now shredded into ashy rags. His eyes were a shade of white indicating he was probably (if not already) going blind, and what was left of his irises looked in different directions. His head trembled and ever-so-slightly ticked to the side every few seconds. 

As we stood in a stand-off that I was clearly not ready for, I put down the suitcase I was holding. He slowly rose his index finger to my face and meticulously waved it from side to side, like Dikembe Mutombo

Satan - "No... No." 

I stared into his faded, vacant white eyes, waiting for him to say something. I thought he was going to hit me, which I prepared for, but he didn't. His body turned, with his eyes and head maintaining contact with mine as he slowly slithered away. 

I picked the suitcase back up and headed towards the door, engaged in a full-blown stare-down with this obviously possessed man. 

Then I asked what any common man would ask the devil. 

Doorman - "What the fuck are you staring at?" 

His arm stiffened as he pointed his elongated index finger at me.

Satan - "I WILL KILL YOU IN THE NAME OF GOD!!!" 

As he turned away, Shitdick walked past him and they brushed shoulders. Him and I could pass for brothers, and seeing that we wear the same uniform and Satan was blind as a bat, he reacted as if I had teleported myself behind him. 

Satan jumped back with a gasp, then turned to run away, though not before sending the two Doormen a message: 

Satan - "IMMA KILL BOTH YA'LL MOTHA FUCKAS!!! IN THE NAME OF GOD!!!" 

He took off down the street, bouncing off scaffolding poles and storefronts. 

After taking the mouth-breathers into the hotel without a tip, I returned to Shitdick, who provided me with an update: 

Shitdick - "The Mets are losing. Fucking Harvey was cruising then gave up three runs." 

Doorman - "Next year, buddy." 

And that's how New Yorkers react to run-ins with the devil. 

(Go fuck yourself.)




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