Being Trapped In A Hotel Room With A Rabid Conservative And Jesus Freak

October 24, 2011

I have no real problem with normal conservatives and Christians. They spew their ideas on their Facebook statuses or their tiny blogs, ones that may or may not be more insignificant than this one.

Dare I say they can’t stand up to my level of zazz and showmanship.

::crickets chirping for an exorbitant amount of time::

Either way, I can usually muster the strength to deal with these people.

In very small doses.

Now, if they identify with these ideals to the point of obsession, these people are a bit harder to deal with. Frankly, any person with a fanatical devotion to any party, ideal, religion, or dogma other than Star Wars is a little more than I can take.

I mean, I love Iron Chef America as much as the next guy. In fact, I am watching it right now. Battle Broccoli, mofos. But… I really can’t take anyone spewing out chef stats and lines of dialogue from their favorite episodes.

Maybe that’s why I don’t like football fans. Or football.

Or sports.

When fandom becomes fanatical, I become annoyed. It’s proportional.

So, of course dealing with rabid conservatives and Jesus freaks in everyday life is grating at best. And since these ideals typically go hand-in-hand and a large number of people in West Virginia continually fall into both categories, running into someone like that happens on a daily basis.

Especially while working in the service industry. Most of the students that waft into the bookstore are either high or too busy caring about what other people think of them, so I’m usually in the clear there.

I like to keep my distance. Even if I have similar feelings about a dogma (or about Dogma) that a fanatical fan does, the ‘fanatical’ part is usually enough to make me stay away.

Of course, sometimes you are trapped in a hotel room with one of these people.

Fortunately, it hasn’t happened to me yet. At least… that I can remember.

You’ve heard of the idea that, in times of duress or trauma, the brain can block out entire blocks of time? Like… if someone is raped and left for dead, they simply won’t remember it?

Maybe that’s it.

Either way, if I found myself in that situation, I have a definite plan.

1: Buy chloroform.

2: Use chloroform on everyone in the room, including myself.

3: Sweet, sweet solace.

Of course, I’d have to repeat that process once everyone woke up… if they ever woke up.

Yes, I imagined myself pulling a machete out of my hammerspace. Don’t judge me.

Now, I know it’s not the Zen Buddhist approach, but I’m not Zen Buddhist, and even if I were… I’m pretty sure Buddha doesn’t really get pissed off.

Just a hunch, you know.

I suppose a more practical (and legal) idea is to bring an iPod full of good music and a flask full of good grain alcohol. Apply the music to your ears. Saturate your soul with your spirits. Repeat as needed.

ghjr

————————————————————————————————–

This is not included in the 500 word limit.

Thanks to Tristram Salisbury for the challenge.

Like I said, I’ve never been in the situation, and I don’t think I will be any time soon, but I have a plan.

Maybe I’ll be drunk enough to throw up on my roommate before I pass out from chloroform fumes.

Maybe.

Truly ghjr.

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