So I am flying back from Minneapolis Sunday. I am at Charlotte waiting for my connecting flight home, a flight which was supposed to leave at 8:55 PM. Due to either bad weather or incompetant airlines (depending on whom you ask), I see immediately that the flight is delayed until 10:35. Blah.
While waiting, I see a bunch of people wearing some ministries tee-shirt. It becomes obvious to me that I am in the midst of a church trip.
At first I thought, well, more power to them. In fact, since I was reading a great book about various Fundamentalist movements throughout history, I was hoping that one of them might see what I was reading and ask me about it. Maybe spark an intelligent discussion.
The thought that whatever money they spent on this trip could have been better spent - maybe by helping people and making a difference - crossed my mind. But, you know, maybe everyone there do contribute money and time for charities befitting someone who follows Christ, and everyone deserves a vacation now and then.
My tolerance ended immediately when the airlines announced that the plane was getting in a bit earlier than 10:30 and they bumped the time of departure up to 10. One of the Fundies starts a chorus which then echoes through the airport about how we should “Praise Jesus for Him making the flight get there earlier.”
I bit my tongue, realizing that nothing good would come from pointing out the obvious: It was the least the big guy could do, what with still delaying us an hour from our original departure time.
“Thanks Jesus, for making us not as late.” :rolleyes:
So anyway, I am biting my tongue and they start to line us up to board the plane. At this point, a member of the group is sitting in his chair. He appears to be holding some medication in his hands - I am guessing for air sickness.
A woman in the group clutches his hands around the pills, gets on her knees and starts very loudly speaking in tongues - or Spanish, I don’t know, the only thing I can make out is “Jesus” every ten words or so - praying for him not to puke on the flight, I guess?
Then, everyone else starts going into that trance-like state - you know, the kind that makes you think maybe you could lift their wallet without them knowing if only they ould stop quivering? And everyone starts praying very loudly for a safe flight.
My head is exploding at this point. I am thinking, I am going to share a plane with them. Help. Please. Lord, hear my (silent) prayers and take me now.
Taking the cue from the woman in front of me who said loudly enough to be heard that if she was in the same row as these freaks, she would drink the entire flight, I decided to make it that I would not get talked to by these freaks.
First, I comment loud enough for those close to me in line to hear, “What is that verse in the Bible again? The one about how praying aloud for the benefit of man is not pleasing to God?”
Then, just in case someone thought of me as a “Get out of Hell free card” conversion, I commented about how I was going to start a rather loud Satanic ritual that people around me would have to listen to.
Fortunately my seat was not near them, and I put on my headphones so I wouldn’t have to deal with anything else the whole trip. I was able to briskly deplane ahead of the gaggle of them, and didn’t have to worry about the shuttle bus being blessed before it took me to my car.
I mean, next time, I am hoping I’ll have a plane full of crying toddlers instead. Maybe a sky-jacking.
Oh, and in case someone has a problem with me having problem with these people, felch me with a crazy straw, thanks. If you really think I hate all people who are religious, or even Christian, you don’t know me.
I hate people who act like this, specifically, and that day that groups of atheists launch into loud soliloquies in public about their hopes that random chance and an unsafe pilot would not cause our plane to go down, and do so in a manner which is designed to convert me to their Godless ways is the day I make a Pit post about them too.
Yer pal,
Satan
I HAVE BEEN SMOKE-FREE FOR:
Three months, one week, three days, 21 hours, 9 minutes and 21 seconds.
4075 cigarettes not smoked, saving $509.41.
Life saved: 2 weeks, 3 hours, 35 minutes.
Hope you’ll come back to Minnesota again soon.