A man approached me yesterday on hole 16 of the disc golf course at El Dorado Park in Long Beach. He was rough looking with tats and walking a pit bull via a control collar. He walked towards me, which is odd in itself because of the danger of being hit by a disc (it hurts). He was deliberately walking in my throwing zone. I was forced to wait. As he got closer my fight or flight response kicked in. I was alone in a secluded part of the park with an aggressive looking man and a big nasty dog fast approaching. I reached in my disc golf bag for my Buck Knife and slipped it into my pocked and then waited. I also primed my cell phone for an emergency call. When you’re fat, flight is not an option.
The first words out of his mouth were, “Do you know if you’re going to hell?”. The first words out of my mouth were, “Are you fucking kidding me? What a buzz kill.” He persisted despite my telling him to piss off in several colorful ways. He said he was ministering to me out of love and that this was part of his daily work for the lord, which he’d been doing ever since he got out of prison. Now he works for a church and helps people by scaring the shit out of them in public parks. I actually said, “I’m calling the cops.” Oh the shame!
Convicts for Jesus is never a good marketing idea. He wanted to tell me his prison conversion story. He wanted to pray with me. He tried to put his arm around me for a manly bro-hug. He tried to give me a little red new testament. He tried to hand me bible tracts. He invited me out for coffee. He offered to play a few holes with me. He asked me to meet and talk to his pastor. He told me he loved me in that special fundie sort of way. All this while speed-talking. Good grief, it was 7:30 in the morning in an empty park. I just wanted to finish my game and drink some coffee. What a freak.
Angry Joe threw his disc into the ground 100 feet from the tee box. Angry Joe was angry, although I still managed to par the hole.