The Sunday Service in Whole Foods

382229_562747207078546_1208101830_nThe wonderful array of books, books, and more books, neatly placed on the shelves of Barnes & Noble  all in different size, colors and titles. Colorful literature with the only worry to decipher which lucky author will fulfill me today. I arrived thirty minutes early to my 7pm meet up in Whole Foods on Union Square eager to burn the isle of Barnes&Nobles with my curiosity. I spent the time pandering through the Ancient Knowledge & Hidden Mysteries, and Self-Help sections–my favorite sections ever! Picking up books that spoke deeply about Ancient Egypt and other Ancient Civilizations is a yearning of mine. I adore bridge the gap between my past and present. Plus, I am convinced humans were much more responsible and connected then todays dogma of connectivity and responsibility. Checking my phone after beating the strong wave of indecision that paralyzed me for the last fifteen-minutes, it read 7:04pm. Even when I try to be on time, I am late. It’s embedded in DNA like HTML Codes for me to be tardy.  I sent a text to my, in lack of better terms, friend that I am near while asking for his location for I surprisingly didn’t receive a text confirming my incessant tardiness.

I make way down Union Square park. The sun hid completely  on the other side of the world letting them know its soon to start a new day leaving the city the never sleeps to keep up the nightly duties. The bustling cars passed, people expediting streets,  and a couple romancing with the female shooting a quick look at me while laughing at her boyfriends tender kisses. Ahead of me reads the large green sign Whole Foods, fairly considerable in size in comparison to the competing stores but, not beating the famous numbers that stand high across a building. The numbers that rumored the end of the time, when in reality it just reads the time in military on the left and how many hours are before the hour struck 12 on the right.  I enter the health food realm with excitement until I despairingly saw the elongated lines.

I didn’t to come to spend anymore money though, I came to deliver these CD’s to a friend after a failed experience on trying to join their business plan–but that’s another story! I walk the stairs that was once unknown to me for many years. It lead to an open cafeteria filled with my dynamic people eating, talking, doing tarot cards and…with honor… people conducting a service of the Lord.

My friend raised his hand as I see him sitting next to people foreign to me. My blood began to boil in this short distance to him. I hoped to God that these strangers were not part of his team in which imagined him asking me belittling questions in front them: “Did you watch the CD’s? “, “No!, Well, why haven’t you?”, “You’re making excuses, you don’t have the success mentality like we spoke about. Remember you don’t want live in the employer quadrant!” Remember, remember, remember…Just know, I had comebacks for any and which way the windblown if his colleagues tried me.

At the table, an elderly lady sit comfortably in a black wool jacket with a matching hat. The wrinkles on her face etched and sketched every inch of her face. Another lady in a gray loose fitting sweater with fine short hair and supple brown skin sat on the end of the table. A black bag filled with books and a really bad, brown, unkept, shiny synthetic wig on top of it separated the two ladies. That wig, that beast, that horse hair was horrendous!  As I eyed this scene with much bewilderment,  I caught on my friend on the receiving end of the table. He sat with his legs crossed  and titled attentively listening to what I soon was about to learn.

I placed my bad on the table ready to pull of the agreement and leave immediately. No conversing, no trying to be friends, nothing but my ass on the 5 Train and my nose in my new book. “Are these your friends?” I asked with my face is slight disgust pointing at the weirdness in front of me. The lady in the gray sweater interrupts my question telling Ronald, the friend, to meditate on something. So I asked Ronald what were they talking about. I thought since the lady said meditate that this must be a conversation I would dive into with joy. Maybe these unknowns aren’t as weird as I thought to be. Maybe there wouldn’t a be rush to head home. Ronald who had on an orange dashiki I’m sure was made in Thailand and not Africa, shot a look up at me, “These are just people, we’re talking about being GAY.” Must he put so much emphasis on the word gay. I shook my head at the stupidity. I refused to get into some debate about sexuality. And for him to yet again talk to strangers, why couldn’t he sit alone like a normal New Yorker and be in his phone patiently  waiting for the CD’s? Have not his parents told him the adolescence rule about speaking to strangers. However, if they lured him in with candy…I want one.

Still confused as to how meditation met with being gay in a discussion, the old white lady rises from her seat in disbelief. “Something is wrong with you,” she said to Ronald.  Ronald combats her phobia  by telling me how she believes being gay is wrong for, yet of course, religious reasons. She turns to me slipping through the cracks of the tables, she was very soft spoken, so caring the tone of her voice that her ignorance felt loving and right. It wasn’t.  The lady in gray finally looks up at me. I was caught by surprise by her crossed eyedness. Things just now got too awkward. “You gay too?” asked the delicate toned elderly. “Nah, I’m straight. I don’t go through their struggles,” I said sarcastically. See, this the deal. I don’t like foolish questions that is none of anybody’s business. In these scenarios, I purposely lie in front of your face. It messes with ones prejudice or fools them completely, in the same moment, their ignorance speaks for them, as they often don’t hold back on words. “Good for you, You should speak to your friend about it,” Grandma suggested.  The lady in gray asked the same invasive  question so quickly with diligence it came off more as a proclamation then inquiry. I completely ignored her and looked to Ronald who still sat his chair sullen. His face appeared docile, innocent, and pale in expression.  The lady in gray goes in this whole sermon after Betty White trailed her nun looking ass out of our vision.

She rants horribly on how Ronald needs to meditate on his life decisions. Then detailed explained God’s workings in first person as if her consciousness was high enough to even speak for an entity the human race as a whole is slowly trying to understand. And so she went on:  “You see that lady next me I didn’t know and when she told me to take off my wig, I knew that was God speaking to me because she is a lady of faith, this is how God works. He expresses himself through you and I. He left his word. Don’t worry I accept you.” This angered me, how are you going to say you accept someone and tell one to meditate on how to live their life? When I addressed that to her, she fires her acceptance to me. Bitch, I don’t need you to accept me! I don’t even know you! How dare she flaunt her fake forgiveness in my face. The audacity of it all, be it that miserable, disgraceful relationship between her and that dirty, filthy, shit colored wig! I wanted to tell her so badly to meditate and accept that furry animal she hides under.

Instead I zipped my bag and left with Ronald following after me. The incident moments before I left in the past though Ron still felt indifferent. I made a pit stop at the Bank when he asked about my next moves, “I’m going home.”  He remained quiet before spilling out his feelings, “I’m really hurt…” I didn’t pay any mind, I was too focus on the ATM and how much money I was going to withdraw. I think twenty is doable. To be quite honest, I didn’t really care how he felt.  He has this tendency to speak to me in a chastising way especially during our business ordeal. A nasty distaste is left in my mouth refusing to care at all.

” I need a hug,” he commanded. At this point, was he just trying to stall? Because, I’m not for the nuisances and the woe is me narrative. No one told him to speak to strangers and actually sit there defenseless.  He actually agreed to meditate  on it! He made them feel right, he made himself feel weak. I glanced at him sharply, “Aw, you feel bad?” He nodded meekly before me. Just when he thought I was going to confide him in my arms like a protective brother, I pat him ever so lightly on the back. “Aw You’re a big boy. You’ll be ‘iight. When people try to undervalue me in passive aggressive ways I ignore it, or read the shit out of them, depending on the battle.” I cracked a half way smile hoping he caught the undertone shade I threw.  “You know before you came,” He started, “They old lady said, something worst then AIDS is coming my way and I am going to suffer.” My  eyes widened in disbelief. “Yeah, and to the black lady she said ‘You should take off that wig. I know it’s fake. You’re never going to get a man with that hair on.’ ” I blurted out laughing so hysterically I collided with a few pedestrians. I couldn’t believe the level of hate was going on at one table! He stood there lifeless in his poise as I tried to pick myself up and regain my composure. “I’m sorry,” I said wiping the saliva off my chin, “The health read is horrible  and this is why I don’t indulge in bitter people like her but, she flamed that other chick so badly. Now that was a classic!” He didn’t move an inch. “You know,” Ronald continued, “It’s hurts more because I am a Christian too!”  I took a deep sigh, knowing this was my cue to go home, “Well, these are your peoples. This is what they do. Hey, what can you do about it.” Placing on hand on his shoulder giving him a few shakes to wake him up from his state, I bid farewell.

I got my ass right on that 5 train, with my nose in my new book called, Science of the Mind.