You Need Jesus

So an Eastern Orthodox, an agnostic and a recovering Catholic are sitting in Union Square drinking coffee. No this isn't the beginning of an old joke, this is what happened the last time I was in New York City. One of my favorite things to do in concrete jungle where dreams are made of is just sit around and people watch. Coming from a small, rural town in central California made up of 87% Mexicans, you just don't see the diversity you get on a single city block of New York.

My friends and I were sitting on the steps of Union Square talking and watching New York City's finest in action and I'm not talking about police officers. There was a man in an all red pimp outfit wearing a Flavor Flav-style clock around his neck complete with a young lady in an outfit so scandalous it rivaled those of the Flavor of Love contestants, a handful of college kids with computer touch screens on their stomachs offering free demos of some game, several hot skaters practicing their ollies and kick-flips mere inches from my fingers and toes and the required break dancing battlers showing off their latest moves.

The king of New York City's finest though was an older gentleman in an outfit so ridiculous that words cannot begin to describe it but I'll try. His skirt consisted of what looked like dozens of multi-colored scarves all sewn together, that flowed like it should have been on the body of a model walking down a runway at Bryant Park instead of a homeless man in Union Square and his vest looked like he'd skinned a muppet back in the '70s and had been wearing the matted fur everyday since.

The best thing about this man wasn't even his couture outfit, it was what he was saying. "I'm gonna wear this in heaven. Why not wear it now?" Apparently the Lord is a Lady Gaga fan and there will be a dress code in heaven I was unaware of. He made his way back and forth from person to person spouting off his rantings about what he would do in heaven, arguing with the break dancers, collecting change from those so inclined and finally receiving a miniature Bible from some people handing out Bible tracts in the park. This is when the gentleman's attitude towards heaven seemed to turn.

"I'll cuss out Jesus Christ himself. Motherfucker! Let him come down. I'll cuss him out right in his face," he said while pointing his head towards the heavens. "If he's so tough let him strike me down with lightning right now." This is where I debated moving my friends back a step or two just in case the Lord almighty was paying attention and felt like having some fun. "Motherfucker, I'll cuss him out!" he continued rambling. Here's when we decided to leave the park and go have dinner. Before we even got up he proceeded to crumple up the Bible tract and throw it at my friend's feet.

Apparently he decided we needed Jesus more than he did. Well God bless. You don't see that in Soledad.

Dear Heifer An Open Letter to the Big-Boned and Lazy

As a native Californian who has been driving since the age of 15 I often use the drive-thrus whenever possible, drive-up ATMs being a regular stop of mine. It is here where I have, on several occasions, seen someone wait in line, park right in front of it and then proceed to get out of their vehicle to use the ATM. Case in point, the woman in the picture below.



Isn't the point of drive-thrus not to have to get out of your car in the first place? If you're going to exit your vehicle in order to use said "drive-thru" then you're not doing it right. In an effort to prevent such obscene abuses of drive-thrus from continuing I have drafted an open letter to the culprits.


Dear Heifer,
I write this open letter to you with love and respect. Stop being a lazy ass and walk once in a while.

First of all you may be asking, who am I to criticize you? I'll be the first to admit that I could absolutely stand to lose some 50+ lbs, I will never be the poster child for Skinny Bitches, Inc and that my love of fried foods and cheese has guaranteed that I will never be accused of looking anorexic. But while I am fat, I am still not as fat and lazy as you.

I come to you because it's acts like this that give the rest of society reason to believe that me and all of my large and in charge brethren are as lazy as you. I may get winded while climbing a flight or two of stairs but I do not take the elevator. I may find it more difficult than it should be to bend over and tie my shoes but I will never buy the kind with velcro straps. I may have trouble finding things that fit in American Eagle because their clothes are cut small but I will never leave the house in sweats. By your actions and the actions of those like you you have made most of society think that all overweight people are lazy and completely sedentary.

Now obviously I don't get up and move as much as I should otherwise I wouldn't be overweight in the first place. But you best believe that if my fat rolls ever prohibited me from reaching my arm out of the window to push the ATM buttons I would not only not use the drive-up ATM, I'd have walked to the bank in the first place.

When I dance I can shake a tail feather, drop it like it's hot and sweep the floor with it like nobody's business. If you ask a certain Canadian friend of mine, she'll tell you that with a little bit of alcohol in me I can give a lap dance so good that my bumps and grinds, shimmies and shakes, hip thrusts and head rolls would give any Pussycat Doll a run for her money. My point is, I may be fat but I can and do still move, which apparently is more than I can say for your kind.

I'm not writing this solely to judge you. I'm writing this as a plea to you. Stop making society think we are all Gilbert Grape's mom! If Dance Your Ass Off and the plethora of Beyoncé-inspired YouTube videos have taught us anything it's that we large people can bust a move. Now before you fully break into the Single Ladies dance, start off slow by parking your car and walking inside the bank. I may be drinking a frapuccino as I write this letter to you but I did not use the drive-thru. I parked my car 3 rows away from the door and walked in with my head and double chins held high.

If you are going to use the drive-thru ATM then use it properly. Drive up to it, reach your hand out like you do when you're reaching for your #3 super-sized extra value meal with diet Coke and stay inside the vehicle at all times.

Sincerely,
Your brother in borderline high blood pressure,
Aldo