I Got "Witnessed" Ya'll!

When I was growing up in the panhandle of Texas in the 50's and 60's everyone I knew were of the Protestant faith and a large portion of them were of some denomination of Baptist.  By the time I had reached the 6th grade, I faintly remember hearing my grandmothers and aunts talking about how they had "witnessed" to total strangers and how this made them feel.  According to Merriam-Webster, a "Christian witness is a public act of both faith and hope intended to awaken in the world belief in hope and salvation."  Little did I know at the time, but it would be 60 years before I would get an upfront and personal experience of having been "witnessed" to.

Yesterday morning started off like any other Saturday morning I've had in the past 17 months, working at a car dealership and driving a 14-passenger employee shuttle bus.  The first few hours are spent getting the employee's to work and by 10am, it's starting to get plenty hot and I'm sweating faster than a country preacher at a tent revival washing and cleaning the bus.  Starting around noon and lasting until 5pm, I'm virtually by myself in my clean, air conditioned bus listening to Alan Jackson, Willie Nelson, Alabama, Brooks and Dunn, Leann Rimes, The Mavericks and Patsy Cline. Occasionally a person will get on the bus and need a ride to the employee parking lot, but yes, I do actually get paid good $$$ to do this.

Long about the crack of high noon, I was really enjoying a cup of coffee that my wife had made for me that morning and I could still taste that great Fudrucker's hamburger and chips I had for lunch, when one of the mechanics from Honda - Larry - gets on the bus.  Larry is 50 years old and moved here a few months ago and we exchange pleasantries about the Texas heat, all the rain we've had this week and how it sucks having to work on a weekend.  He said something that I didn't quite catch due to all the noise from the bus engine.  All I heard was "God" and I replied by saying, "Yeah."  The next thing I know Larry goes into this long dissertation about how he was paralyzed from the neck down from a motorcycle accident in California on October 9th, 2009.  According to Larry, on that day while laying in his hospital bed, him and his wife experienced a miracle that only a Christian would understand.  He saw in a mirror that Jesus was sitting on his left shoulder and God was standing behind his right shoulder.  I was at a total loss for words.                                   

By the time I had driven half a mile, Larry was quoting scriptures from the bible, how it had affected his life and how he now perceives the world from a different point of view; however, he didn't stop talking long enough to take a breath of air.  I did my ever loving best to not be rude, but I kept thinking to myself "Larry - give it up dude.  For all that's holy and righteous, just give it up.  I'm 68 years old; my balls hang lower now than they used to, I live a simple life, I have simple pleasures, I've been married to the same beautiful woman for 45 years and yes, I do believe in God.  So how about shuttin' your pie hole and let me enjoy my cup of coffee, music and air conditioning for the remainder of my shift.  Huh, whaddya' say Larry?"  It wasn't until the third traffic light that Larry actually took time out from his "witnessing" to take a breath of air and I noticed he started getting a little color back in face.

Part of my bus route takes me through an area that consists of five large Section Eight apartment buildings and from beginning to end it's four blocks long.  Each time I drive along this street I often think that if Charles Darwin were still alive he would be ecstatic about exploring this complex.  I'm fairly certain there are species of animals to which no one in the civilized world knows anything about, and these creatures are living happily and breeding in total bliss.  Two of the more interesting creatures I see regularly are Thumbelina (the cross dressing male with broad shoulders, an over sized Adams apple and a tacky wardrobe) and Bluto (a homeless, bearded black man who wears cargo shorts year round and his legs resemble rusty cheese graters - just gag me with a spoon).   Surely, I thought to myself, Larry would take an interest as to what was going on outside of the bus, but not good old Larry, he's still rattling off scriptures faster than a tobacco auctioneer.                             

By the time I crested the top of the hill and could see the employee parking lot, I began getting a great feeling of relief because Larry had picked up steam on his "witnessing"since the last traffic light and showed no signs of slowing down.  During this entire 15-minute drive of insanity, the only word I had spoken was "Yeah" and not one time did Larry every show any signs of diverting from his mission of spreading the word of God.  As the bus was rolling to a stop at the parking lot, I wondered how many times Larry had rehearsed his sermon and what kind of dinner table conversation he has with his wife after the blessing of the meal?  For as long as my employer decides to continue shuttle bus service for its' employees, I will treat Larry with the same respect and customer support I give to all the passengers, BUT he and I will never break bread together.  Nope, not happening!!!

Man! What A Morning!

Did you ever wake up in the morning and have that feeling as though you've got a lot of things to do for the day, but your energy level just isn't quite there?  Last week I had to get some blood drawn for an impending minor surgery I'm having to remove a small skin cancer spot near my left eye.  I wasn't real keen on the idea, but what the Hell, I had to go or else suffer the verbal thrashing I would get if I didn't go.

Anyway, my wife took my nasty ass down to our doctor's office and we quickly discovered the left hand in this practice doesn't always talk to the right hand very well.  After sitting in the lobby for what seemed to be years, knocking back a cup of their "instant" coffee and watching their boring as Hell nutrition ad, I was finally escorted back to the drawing station to have my blood drawn.  The young man leading the way to our destination could easily have been a graduate of the Oral Roberts University and all the way to the drawing station he kept saying how this was "a glorious day for God."  Once I sat down and he prepared to draw my blood, he said "Glory be to God" twice while  wiping my arm with an alcohol pad.  He repeated this same thing twice just prior to sticking me with the needle and twice again when he took the needle out!  I was beginning to get a little nervous, if you get my drift.  I didn't know if I was going to need to do a Jackie Chan routine on this little guy or not.

OK, two tubes of blood have been drawn and now I've got to provide him with a urine sample in this little bitty plastic cup.  Remember, by this time I've already choked down three cups of coffee and my bladder is pounding like a bass drum.  I discovered very quickly that the restroom I've been told to use to get my sample was in use and thus, I was doing the Michael Jackson Moon Walk in the hall anxiously waiting for this person to finish their business.  After what seemed to be an eternity, this young woman that worked there finally opened the door and made her grand exit.  I had no sooner entered the restroom when I was greeted with a stench that would certainly gag a buzzard off a gut wagon.  This ungracious young woman didn't have the decency to forewarn me of the room being filled with a toxic smell that can only be described as that of someone having gutted a goat with a road flare.  I was in fear of losing the enamel off my teeth, so I breathed only through my nostrils while struggling to fill up this damn little plastic cup!  Were it not for the fact that I had nothing to eat since 4pm the previous day, I would have done my best to track down this gangster of stench and asked if during this young woman's potty training years if she had ever been taught to turn the damn fan on while giving birth to a landfill?

After leaving the doctor's office, and assuring all of those within ear shot that I was not responsible for the methane madness at the drawing station, my wife and I went to our neighborhood Mexican restaurant for breakfast where I proceeded to eat enough to feed a family of eight.  It's absolutely amazing what a little food and caffeine can do for a person's outlook on life.