Last night as I was walking home to my apartment, all full of ice cream and gnocchi, I noticed a bunch of those metal sidewalk barricades lining the block my apartment is on. After reading some vague signs about when you can’t park there and seeing no real information explaining the need for barricades.
At first I figured, since my neighborhood is largely Puerto Rican, maybe they were going to have a parade. It was then pointed out that a parade probably would not occur from 6pm-12am on a Monday night. But then I remembered how often I come home to find kids playing well past midnight and thought maybe the parade would happen.
Eventually though, I decided to just ignore it and go watch TV, like the good American citizen I am.
This morning on my typical walk to the subway the barricades were of course up, only now there was a big difference – I was boxed in on the sidewalk. The police weren’t letting anyone through. I was told that in a few minutes the presidential motorcade was going to be coming by and then they’d re-open the sidewalks.
Not really caring about getting to work on time I told the cop I’d rather be outside waiting in the sunshine than going to work anyway at which point he said “well thanks. I’ve been called every name in the book so far this morning – you’re one of the nice ones.” At this point some jerk on a bike pedals up and upon finding out he couldn’t cross the street for a whole 15 minutes he immediately started bitching and then gave up. A few minutes later he went back to the cop with a well-crafted arugment about why he should be let through.
I thought to myself “how ridiculous is it that this guy is bitching to the cop and then figured that if he had some really solid points the cop just might let him by.” I wondered if I were a cop if anyone could talk me into letting them by. I mean I’m sure someone would be able to do it but I don’t know what it would take:
Andy: I’m sorry sir, you can’t pass through here.
Jesus: Dude, really?
Andy: Yes Jesus, really. I’m not allowed to move these barricades for anyone.
Jesus: Oh come ooooon.
Andy: Absolutely not.
Jesus: Look, my prime lime bar sales location is right across the street. All I need to do is get there and setup before –
Satan: Wokka wokka wokka!
Andy: Ugh. What is wrong with you two, and why are you constantly hanging out near each other?
Jesus: Don’t look at me. Satan has been trying to follow me around and have my cool rub off on him for the past thousand years or so.
Andy: Don’t you guys fight?
Satan: Nah, I gave up on that. Now I just try and sell more hot dogs than he does lime bars. Plus, do you know how hard it is to fight Jesus? He looks scrawny and weather-beaten, but man, he is one cagey guy.
Jesus: I’m telling you Satan, you’re a good fighter, you just need to work on your footwork a little –
Satan: And be, oh, I don’t know, THE SON OF GOD!
Jesus: Don’t you start with me again! I told you he keeps his nose out of it! I fight my own fights!
Satan: Yeah right.
(Satan and Jesus stop and stare at each other briefly and then begin fighting like a couple of little kids – just kind of putting their hands out and slapping at each other and other basic rough-housing)
Andy: Alright, alright! Break it up you two!
(Andy moves the barricade to step over and split up Satan and Jesus and a man on a bike pedals through the opening and screams “see ya, sucker!”)
Andy: Oh no you did not!
(Andy draws his gun and shoots the biker. He falls to the ground and bleeds quietly)
Jesus: Well we gave it a shot.
Andy: You mean you two planned that?
Satan: Yeah. He gave me $5 and told Jesus he’d buy some lime bars.
Jesus: I told him it wouldn’t work – you figure people would listen to someone who pretty much can predict the future.
Andy: Well, I guess he learned his lesson! Anyway I’m going home.
Satan: Aren’t you on duty?
Andy: Guys, the skit is over. I’m not sticking around. See ya.
Jesus: (together with Satan, waving) Bye Andy.
Deal with it. It’s a Monday. I’ll try to be more creative come Wednesday or something.