antiques and queers...

In a previous blog I mentioned how I wanted to play chess with this old man at my favorite coffee shop. Well, it still hasn't happened. I saw him today playing a different game. For some reason this old guy is really intimidating me, but I still really want to talk with him about things, random things, maybe even special things, like Jesus.

Hmm,... yes.

Anyways, I spent the majority of my afternoon in that coffee shop systematizing my theology, and to my surprise it (by it I mean my theology) was coming together nice and orderly. Feeling rather organized from a mental/spiritual standpoint, I walked back to my car around 6pm to reward myself at my apartment with mindless television. The Quarter smelled of throw up, dog poop, beer, and rotten food, intermixed with some antiseptic spray that attempts to cover the smell.

As I opened my car door I noticed an old man sitting on some steps, enjoying the smell (probably not) and seeming very content. I didn't want to, already feeling quite satisfied since I organized my theology.

I'm sure God was very pleased with me that I had figured him out a little more, but that's another subject for another time.

In that moment, somewhere in my mind, I felt the gravitational pull towards this old man, who seemed far more inviting than the old man who plays chess at the coffee shop.

I threw my bag into the car, then casually said, "Nice night."
He's said, "Very Nice. It hasn't felt this good outside for quite a while."
I said, "You're right, it does feel good."

Pause.

I said, "Well, have a goodnight." (feeling much like Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber saying "Big Gulps huh?")
He said, "Won't you sit down?"
I said, "Sure, I've got some time."

I sat down next to him on his steps and Larry began to tell me about his life and the weather.

Halfway through the conversation he asked, "Would you like a coke?"
"Sure, I'd love one." said I:)

After Larry brought me a coke, he invited me inside where we talked for the next 30 minutes about whatever came to mind.

I learned that Larry used to be a marine merchant, but has been retired for quite some time. He traveled all over the world and wishes so badly he could still travel but can't because he suffers from Vertigo. Being an avid traveler, Larry recommended that I visit Spain and France, especially France because the women are absolutely gorgeous and oftentimes nude.
He also doesn't care much for sports, but loves antiques, "proper" music, and art.

Larry kept repeating certain phrases, like telling me the apartment belongs to his cousin and that his son recently died from leukemia.

In the process, though, he said I phrase I will soon never forget, because I loathe its association.

In the same sentence he said, "mother f!*#&ing queers and mother f%@#$ing Jesus."

The cursing was funny, because he's an old guy and I don't hear too many old guys talk like that, but its association wasn't.

He wasn't being critical, nor judgmental, its just the way he talked. From my conversation, I could tell he loves queers, and Jesus too, just not the kind of way I'd hope he'd love Jesus.

I found it semi-amusing, but it also made me feel very sad.

Somewhere along the line in his long, illustrious life, Larry's gotten to the point where he can say that in the same sentence and it practically has no meaning or no importance or significance whatsoever.

People of the cross, this is not good. This is definitely not good.

I got his number, and I'll visit him soon.

You know, I really enjoyed Larry, he brought great refreshment to my reason for being in the Quarter. I also hope that if you read this you'll say a quick prayer for Larry.

That's all.