I figured this would happen.
My office is now in the same building as an abortion clinic so naturally, I am now a baby killer.
Once I worked in a bookstore that had a bakery in the same building. I guess that means I can write "baker" on my resume as well.
The protesters have handed out their literature to some of my coworkers but they have never approached me. Since we are not supposed to "engage" them, I just put on my hundred yard stare as I go by and ignore the repeated entreaties to save my soul. They apparently don't like my approach.
Two days ago I was approached by a guy, five blocks from where I work, who identified me as my true baby killing self. Yesterday, some undoubtedly Christian soul hocked their lung cookies and snot all over my car. Yeah, I got a handfull as I went to open my car door.
Now, I've worked as a paramedic and I've worked in hospitals where I've been elbow deep in poop, puke, and blood. The only thing, and I mean ONLY thing that has ever made me quesy was chunky lung cookies. Well, I have to admire them for their spot on delivery and medium of choice. Ooops! Did I say choice?
After the phlegmatic interactions yesterday, I went home and learned that my husband will be losing his job at the end of the month.
Sigh. It appears that the wrath of God is upon me. I wonder what took him so long?
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1 comment:
Ugh...good grief, girl, I'm so sorry about it all...
I used to live a block away from the clinic in Fargo, ND--one protester lady, in particular, had a voice that carried for miles. She was no fun on a Tuesday morning, especially if I'd been drinking the night before.
But I never had any up-close-and-personal interactions with the crazy people, and think it is just awful that you have to go through that all the time. I'd have killed somebody by now, since my tolerance for inconsiderate insanity is decidedly low. Of course, if you decided to do to them what they do to you, you'd likely be arrested. Ain't it grand? F*ckers...
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