coffee w satan (part i)
he wouldnt shut up. it only took a few minutes before it occurred to me that if for no other reason god probably booted him out of heaven for his incessant babbling. it was as if he was trying very hard to impress me – or someone at one of the tables near us.
but i wasnt interested. as he had intruded on my hospitality and patience and was sitting there making a spectacle of himself i wondered if his perceived vanity wasnt simply an infantile attempt to gain acceptance.
the rare moments when he made eye contact never seemed to coincide with the rare moments when he paused to draw a breath. this made interrupting him insanely difficult and cutting him off was little more than a foolish pipe-dream.
you would think the lord of all things evil would carry himself with a little more confidence but you would be wrong. he had all the swagger of a gangly jr high boy on the first day of school. and the broken tenor to match.
it seemed he was rambling on about how upset he was over some failed attempt to corrupt some guy – the details were mind numbing – and he persisted in lathering on bits of information that didnt progress his story.
for example – he offered a meticulous list of the various wines located in the grocery store his target frequented. by color. then he proceeded to discuss the etiquette of wine tastings as if i had neither been to one nor heard his ridiculous spiel on other occasions.
i shrugged at him over the rim of the book i was reading at the time – something by greg boyd i think – and took another sip of my coffee. and tho we had interacted like this on several occasions something about this particular time was different and i knew it the moment he started to tear up.
he whined about being inadequate at work and moaned about his complete failure as a being in general. his complaining took on the tone of someone completely resigned to their fate.
i almost felt sorry for him.
it struck me just how frightened of him i had been before we actually met. id heard stories that would curl hair. i mean – this was the dragon. the serpent. the prince of the power of the air. the stories i heard growing up had me thinking he would be the most impressive and horrifically beautiful creature in the history of time.
but he wasnt. he was smallish and unkempt. and awkward. and not in a cute geeky sort of way. it was really a complete let down. the once sinister malevolent dark lord became a harmless basket-case who effused over his venti mocha valencia.
he continued blubbering and i continued feinging interest while paying him no real attention. despite the banality of the situation i figured it was better he sit here crying on my moleskine than be off messing with people who still think hes someone to be feared. so i sipped my coffee and read my book and nodded every once in a while so hed think i was still listening.
(2 b continued)