Jesus Cakes and a Death Hairball

I got on the bus yesterday, waking up early to catch a ride to Barra. Riding a bus in this metropolis is always an interesting experience. The vehicle itself is like any typical inner city transport—long, box like, and noisy as hell. During peak hours, the busses are filled far beyond the point of ‘overcapacity’ with people standing or sitting on every inch of possible moving space. Bus drivers pedal their breakneck caravans at top speeds, and I constantly have to replace thoughts of us slamming into a cement telephone pole with milder pleasantries.

From the mundane to the spectacular, getting on the bus always provides some form of entertainment. Yesterday a merchant boarded the bus carrying his signature tray of chewing gum, candy, and snacks. These amateur business men are ubiquitous on most routes. They board the bus at random stops, step into the center aisle of the vehicle, and then proceed – with the pizzazz of an amateur showman – to sell their wares. On this occasion, the comerciante decided to sell something entirely different. Jesus cakes.

Well, not literally Jesus cakes. When he boarded the bus, he immediately caught my attention by launching into song. He began with “Good morning, hello people”, and then just started singing. I was puzzled and mildly entertained. After he finished singing, he started, softly at first, a Baptist sermon and testimony. It began like most sermons with scripture and promises of eternal love and life in the hereafter.

As the minutes passed, his voice began to rise in volume until he was almost at the point of screaming. Everyone ignored him, including the poor women whose ear was not but a few inches from his face. Naturally, I was the only one on the bus who hadn’t seen this before, and I tried to stare at him from the corner of my eye. I think he noticed, and was happy someone was giving him the most miniscule amount of attention. He yelled further, and began to point and shake is finger, ranting about the existence of homosexuality, prostitution, and who knows what else. I began to find his tirade extremely abrasive, as it continued at top volume for what must have been at least 15 minutes. I said something like, “Wow he talks a lot” to the girl sitting next to me and she just grimaced and turned away. After a few more minutes of screaming, he ended the lecture in song and then got up and walked off the bus.

I laughed to myself at the episode, thinking about how he wasn’t a very good business man, and if he wanted to sell Jesus cakes he should probably shake his finger less and hug people more.

Oh, and oh yeah. Just after he left, this woman sitting behind me coughed in the most bizarre of ways. I mean it was really bizarre. It sounded like the noise someone would make, the last noise that is, just before they die. You know, like (as in Fight Club): here it comes. DEATH HAIRBALL…cough…prepare to evacuate soul.

All I could think of was, “I hope that poor women decided to buy a Jesus Cake”.

Uhhhh.....kinda like this.