I get in line.
Older, obviously drunk and high, gay man yelling at someone in the line, “DONT TRY TO SHOVE YOUR FUCKING GOD IN MY FACE! WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE ME?!? DO I TELL YOU WHAT TO DO? FUCK NO! IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME GET OUT OF THE FUCKING LINE!”
Older black lady, “It says in the Bible, 'It's a sin for a man to lay with another man.'”
Young, angry black guy in back of the line, “WE JUST BELIEVE IN THE BIBLE BECAUSE THE SLAVE MASTER SHOVED IT DOWN OUR THROATS! WE JUST BELIEVE IN THE BIBLE BECAUSE THE SLAVE MASTER SHOVED IT DOWN OUR THROATS!”
The older, drunk, almost certainly high on K2, gay guy now really working himself into a huff, “NOW SEE, IT'S OK FOR YOU TO THINK THAT. THAT'S THE GREAT THING ABOUT AMERICA. YOU'RE FREE TO BELIEVE THAT, AND WHATEVER OTHER STUPID BULLSHIT YOU WANT. JUST DON'T TRY TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO.”
The old lady, “You better believe you're going to have to answer for it.”
The angry guy in the back of the line, “WE JUST BELIEVE IN THE BIBLE BECAUSE THE SLAVE MASTER SHOVED IT DOWN OUR THROATS! YOU THINK THAT SHIT COMES FROM THE MIDDLE EAST? THAT BULLSHIT COMES FROM EUROPE! YAHWEH MY ASS.”
A kid gets in line in back of me. He's bedraggled and limping and gives the general impression of being injured. He says, “Hey guess what? I got hit by a car this morning going 40 miles an hour on the highway. I woke up and was walking down the road and, “BAM”, I hit the pavement and he sped off. It fucked up my leg pretty bad.”
“Did you go to the hospital?”
He responded as if that was the craziest idea he had ever heard, “Fuck no! I got up and walked away. Man, fuck this line, I'm gonna go look for some leftovers.”
Just then a kid with a big, red afro comes running down Piss Alley with another guy right on his tail, “Get the fuck away from me you fucking asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The red haired guy ran past me and the crazy guy stopped in the middle of the street in front of the line. He looked me right in the eyes and started to scream in a cartoonishly high pitched voice, “HEY LOOK, I'M NOT FROM AROUND HERE AND I'M NOT SURE WHERE I'M AT. YOU GUYS AREN'T GOINING TO TRY TO BEAT ME UP ARE YOU? PLEASE DON'T BEAT ME UP.”
No one said anything. I almost wanted to go up and start punching him just because I knew he would begin screaming in an even more comical fashion, but no.
He ran into the middle of the intersection and began contorting and writhing on the ground. The red haired guy explained to the security guard that he had smoked a stick of K2 with the guy and he suddenly went batshit insane. They went to the intersection to try and drag the guy out of there. As they grabbed for his feat and hands he struggled to get away and continued to scream, “PLEASE DON'T BEAT ME UP. PLEASE. NOOOOOOOO!!!”
They finally got him and carried him to the corner like a sack of potatoes. They dumped him on the sidewalk and the red haired guy walked away. The security guard asked if he should call the ambulance but the old Christian lady said, “No, he's just fucked up on that K2 stick. He'll be fine in five or ten minutes.”
The maniac had meanwhile quieted down and was sitting on the corner in a contemplative state.
An old man gets in line in back of me and tries to hand me a plastic bag with ramen soups and canned sausages in it, “Alright, are you going to go and try to trade these soups and these sausages for a stick?”
“I think you got the wrong guy.”
“Oh, I thought you were going to try to trade this food to the Jamaican for a stick.”
“I don't know the Jamaican all that well.”
“OK then, I'll ask someone else.”
The angry guy at the end of the line, “HE'S RIGHT TO STAND UP FOR HIMSELF. I SAY HE'S RIGHT. THAT BIBLE SHIT CONTROLES YOUR MIND. JESUS IS A EUROPEAN WHITE MAN!”
The security guard opens the door, “Ten more people.” The old lady and the irate gay guy and his boyfriend all go in to eat. The K2 maniac gets up off sidewalk and gets in line where the angry guy explains to him how the Bible has been used to control black people for centuries. I listen while smoking cigarettes in a dream like state. Ten more minutes to go.