I’ve been meaning to tell this story for a while but things have been hella busy and the blog game has started to pass me by once again. But I’m here now and even though the story is a solid month old, I feel like it is a timeless tale of intrigue, wonderment, and most of all unsolicited evangelization. Buckle up.
My girlfriend (see that, dear, I mentioned you in the blog — kudos to me) and I have been in the market for an apartment these past few weeks so we’ve been taking a lot of meetings at random places. My girlfriend usually finds places during the day, sets up appointments, and then tells me where to be and when. Having lived in my hometown for nearly 30 years, I know the sketchy places to avoid and there have been many times where I tell her hell no, we aren’t living over there. But in the spirit of exhausting options and so that she can’t blame me for being the reason we haven’t found a place yet, I sometimes will concede even if the place is in a less than ideal part of town.
So one Friday night in November, we had two apartments to see after work. Neither one of them were in GREAT parts of town but I thought I’d give them a go. The one we saw at 4:50 was fine but it was very old, smelled funny, and the neighborhood wasn’t great. So we moved onto our next appointment across town at 5:10 and this is where it gets interesting.
We meet this guy, let’s call him Ethan, outside of this house. He seems like a relatively normal fella, very nice and welcoming. We head into the house and he is showing us around, giving us the deets on the people upstairs, what utilities usually run — normal apartment shit. While we’re exploring the kitchen area (sidenote: it had a bathroom off of it that the guy described as “a bit different” and by that he meant it was a closet. No lie, I don’t think I could have had the room to take a shit in it) he drops a line about his wife, mentions that “she passed away a year ago today” and said that it was his faith in God that has gotten him through it.
Now, I’m a pretty sympathetic guy so I felt bad for him — no one should have to go through that. A little odd to mention on an apartment visit but whatever it was the exact one year anniversary so what the hell, get it all out Ethan.
After seeing the basement, he started to chat me up about my work, etc which I have no problem talking about. And then it happened. He says, “Yeah I was born again eight years ago.” I immediately thought “oh fuck, this isn’t good.”
He proceeded to launch into a diatribe about how he found Jesus, how his wife was Jewish and he told her she was wrong, how he evangelizes wherever he goes, and how he asked God for a sign once in a hot tub to which God told him the signs were all around him in nature and that he didn’t need to give him a sign but then he also told us that he saw a shooting star and knew that was the sign which didn’t make sense to me because didn’t God just say that he didn’t have to give him a sign?
And worst of all, he was one of those people that you couldn’t get to stop talking. There was no pause for us to get a word in and say we had to go or that we’d rather be literally anywhere else. He then proceeded to ask about our faith and whether we were religious. I’m a church going Catholic so I just told him yep and didn’t go into specifics. He then asked me to share my conversion story and other “testimonials of Christ” to which I just said “yeah I don’t have any, I was raised this way.” I hope that jab got to him — bitch I’ve been saved since I was a baby, way to catch up at 40!
Now, I know many of you are thinking “why the fuck didn’t you just tell him off or make fun of him?” Great question. I wanted to, I really did. But as he kept talking, all I could think was that we are now in a Criminal Minds episode. I know how these sickos work — guy thinks I’m some sinner who doesn’t believe in God so he murders me in order to “cleanse the Earth” thinking he’s doing God’s work. I’m slowly inching towards the door, trying to get between him and my girlfriend (pretty good boyfriend, eh?) even though she doesn’t really get my inching and proceeds to move around me.
Finally, I’m able to walk into the front room with her and she stops and looks back at me to which I say “get the fuck outside and don’t come back in.” Ethan catches up in the front room (we were talking the whole time but he was locking up the back door) and now I’m feeling better because I was able to lead him out onto the porch. We walk down to the street and the guy just won’t stop. He’s trying to find a damn card to give us and at this point we are standing in the road. We’re off to the side, but still in the road.
Luckily a homeless man with a Bills hard hat on (my hero) came along and yelled at us to get out of the street because cars couldn’t see us. That was my cue to cross the street, get in my car, and get the ever loving fuck out of there.
So yeah, we both escaped with our lives but man what a wild thing to do while trying to sell an apartment! I mean that could have been the nicest apartment at the lowest price with utilities included and a lifetime supply of pizza rolls and I still wouldn’t have taken it. Imagine needing to call him because the sink is leaking and having to listen to thirty minutes about the spiritual powers of water and how being baptized in Christ is the right thing? And also, it wasn’t even his fucking house! He was doing this on behalf of the owners who live on the West Coast! Which begs the question, do you think those people know that this nut is doing this to people? No wonder their apartment hasn’t sold!
Anyway, moral of the story is don’t be afraid to tell your girlfriend that you refuse to live in the sketchy parts of town. Sketchy might not always be drug dealers and poors, it could also be evangelical psychopaths who want to murder you and wear your skin.