Jeebuz

A man in a trenchcoat stands in a doorway holding copies of The Watchtower and Awake out in front of him like they were shields.

A young man with a stylish haircut strolls along offering tiny pamphlets to everyone he meets. He rattles off nonsense words in a sermon’s cadence, “Jolly-rolly Jeedee, peaches-leaches Jeebuz.”

A stern-looking man in a windbreaker holds out a booklet with a picture of the cross on it.

I encounter all these people before I reach the end of one city-block. I’m smiling by the time I reach the end of the block and see a second man distributing copies of The Watchtower. I shake my head and exclaim, “Geez!”

From behind me, the man in the windbreaker overhears and responds, “Exactly!”

I turn to look at him and he takes a tentative step toward me.

I laugh, assuming he’s misunderstood, and I explain, “Not ‘Jesus’! ‘Geez!'” then add, “Though ‘Jesus!’ might apply to.”

We’re grinning at each other – one of us more maniacally then the other. The light changes in my favor and I walk into the crosswalk.

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