The Day I Met the Devil
I recall when I met the Devil. That’s right Satan, the Prince of Darkness, Old Scratch, and whatever nefarious title you may wish to give him. It was a blustery winter’s day many years ago. Of course this is Dallas, so winters aren’t so severe. We just get a lot of crazy unpredictable weather several times a year, and sometimes we have a heat wave in December.
Anyway I was waiting at the train station pacing back and forth. Some dust blew up and got into my eyes so I gave them a good rubbing. When I opened them next I saw a peculiar man sitting down on the mostly uncomfortable seats at the other end of the station. His hair was a gentle light-brown, long, and running just past his shoulders, which whipped gently in the wind, as though this was a mere zephyr ignoring the frequent blasts of chilled air. The mysterious man marked a neatly-trimmed mustache and beard, drawing a nearly dotted line up to his ears. A coy smile graced his lips, and his nose held up a pair of “John Lennon-style” teashade sunglasses hiding his deep-blue eyes. I knew they were deep-blue. I do not know how I knew; I just knew.
He was dressed in a shadow black leather three-quarter length coat, with a forest green turtleneck sweater. Around his neck, dangled a delicate silver ankh. His perfectly pressed black khaki pants traveled far down his long legs to a polished pair of black leather boots underneath. He stood up. A somewhat lanky fellow he was, as he slowly approached me with his silver pendant dancing from side to side.
“Excuse me,” his soft voice echoed a bit throughout the station, “but might I inquire as to when the next train will arrive?”
“I guess another five minutes or so,” I said, then paused for a bit. “You look a little familiar.”
“I am the Devil. I look familiar to everyone.”
“Sorta like Santa Claus. Hehe. Hey, I’m John,” I casually responded. “So what are you doing out here?”
Satan smirked. “I am heading to the convention center for the auto show. I always did fancy the nice sports cars. It is one of humanity’s greater achievements.”
“Yeah, you get to sit in them too…well if you can fit in them,” I said, trying to make awkward small talk to the slightly effeminate lord of darkness. It was about then that the weather got a bit more chaotic as customary in Texas; a flurry of miniature ice cubes fell from the sky peppering the metal awnings of the train station.
The dark prince looked a little concerned. “Uh…what is this ice falling from the sky?”
“You don’t know?” I asked.
I do not really get out that much,” he sheepishly replied.
“Hail, Satan,” I said, and at that moment I was overheard by a gaggle of fundamentalist Baptist getting off a nearby bus. I should have expected this as there are a lot of Baptists in Dallas, and I’m sure some of them take their religion too seriously.
“HE WORSHIPS SATAN! GET HIM! GET HIM!” they shouted as they pelted me with a library of bibles.
“Hey, wait a minute! There was a comma in that statement!” I said as I tried to shield myself from their bibliographic barrage.
Boy that was a day.
Didn’t even get to see the cars.