99. God Complex

One of the more interesting religious experiences I've ever had happened while waiting in line at the Subway near my old apartment.  As I was ordering my sandwich, a black woman waiting to pay started arguing with the young black woman behind the counter.  Apparently she wasn't happy with the service she had received.  She expressed her dissatisfaction by berating the black female employee for working for foreigners (the shop's Indian owners), thereby siding with them over her own people.

The young woman ignored her at first, but the customer kept on, insisting that "This is what's wrong with black people," and that "They come into our neighborhoods and our own people help them work against us."  Eventually the young woman grew exasperated and said desperately, "Ma'am, I didn't do anything to you."  The woman immediately took offense, and replied sharply, "You can't do anything to me!  I'm covered in the blood of Jesus!"

I spent the next 20 seconds seeing how far my jaw could drop without actually unhinging itself.  It got pretty far.  As the woman walked out, I apologized to the cashier on her behalf.  I felt like the crucifix hanging from my neck required as much.

I am truly fascinated by people who cite God as a reference in their meanness.  How is it possible?  I feel like I would choke on the contradiction.

This happened again recently when I was trying to catch a bus in a neighboorhood I had never been in.  When an older woman came and sat down, I decided to ask her for help.

Me: Do you know if the 95E is running right now?

Her: (silence)

Me: (Hmmmmm... Either she didn't hear me, or she's crazy.  I really need to get on this bus though.  Let me try this again).  Excuse me... do you know if the 95E is running?

Her: (venomously) I don't know nothing.  We don't have to help y'all.  Y'all supposed to know where y'all going.  I know 290 is running.  I know that.

Me: (WTF?!?)

At this point I'm sure this woman is crazy.  For one, 290 is a highway, and it doesn't come anywhere near 93rd and Commercial.  I'm thinking maybe she thinks I'm some spoiled suburban chic (I am), who should have her own car (I do), and she doesn't wanna help me.  But she never says that.  And frankly, a) I still need to find out how to get where I'm going, and b) I really wanna know who "we" and "y'all" are.  I calculate the risk that this woman has a weapon in her purse, and proceed with caution.

Me: I'm sorry.  Who do you think I am?

Her:  I don't know who you are.  We don't have to help y'all.  290 is running.  I know that.  Y'all should help yourselves.

(a little more back and forth)

Her: I'm not gon sit here and argue with you.  I don't answer to you.  I know the man above.  I don't answer to you.

Me: (tugging on my crucifix).  Oh, you mean God.  Do you see this?

Her: I don't care about that.  I don't owe you nothing.  I don't have to help you.  Hell no.

Me: (Wowness)

Her: (as I'm walking away) Blah, Blah Blah... You ain't Jesus!... Blah, blah, blah.

Now... This woman's obvious craziness notwithstanding, I was still amazed that she cited her relationship with God immediately prior to informing me that "Hell no..." she was not going to help me.  Wowness.  And given that the woman in the Subway shop was not perceptibly insane, what was she thinking?  And what would a person who witnessed her Jesus-rant, but who hadn't spent much time in Christian churches, think of those of who do?

I have lots more to say on that.  This post is long enough as it is.