I got some today…as I biked along 31st street towards Grand, an older black woman yelled at me “JESUS LOVES YOU!”
And I wondered, why does she think I don’t know that?
The fact that I don’t believe in Jesus is an entirely interior characteristic (except for that one carefully concealed tattoo). So I started thinking about what made me look like someone down and out and in need of some saving! Did she think I was going to the new Planned Parenthood clinic that just opened there? Did she think any white girl on a bike in that neighborhood was looking for some kind of fix? Did she think I was lost…on the physical or metaphysical plane? I know I wasn’t dressed like a hooker, at least not today.
Hmm. It reminded me of a sunny Sunday morning when I was on my way to the farmer’s market, and some cholo straight up offered me pot, crystal, AND a good time. These things make me worry.