Not The Angel of Goodwill

I was stopped at a traffic light in Killarney a few nights ago, when I heard someone calling out to me. Now this an area notorious for car-jacking and I quite literally feared for my life, expecting to see a gun pointed at my head.
I turned down the volume on my CD player. A scruffy-looking black man was standing outside my window. He had a toothy grin on his face. He did not look particularly menacing, but I was ready to jump the traffic light at the slightest sign of aggression.
Hey, madoda!” he shouted at me through the closed window. (madoda = Zulu for “man”)
“Yo!” I responded.
“He loves you brother!”
I preferred not to respond. I assumed he was referring to Christ and not a man. I was correct.
“Have you accepted Him as your lord and saviour, young man?” (Despite his scruffiness, he did not seem much older than I am)
“Yes, I have”, I said. “Now please go away”
He was not to be vanquished that easily. The poor sod was filled with the Lord’s divine spirit. In fact, he was so elated that he decided I would make a first-class religious convert.
I prayed for the light to turn green. His god was clearly more powerful than mine, because the light stayed red for a little while longer. (I am terminating my membership and ceasing all and any contributions)
“He loves you man. He loves us all. He is our saviour!”
“Right on brother!” I responded sarcastically.
“Take this young sir”, he continued. “Save your immortal soul from eternal damnation!”
Great. A fekken pamphlet. On the front of it was a drawing of a petrified man surrounded by flames. There’s nothing like a fire and brimstone to shock you into submission, is there? Why is the message of salvation always one of eternal damnation and suffering? Why?
I rolled down the window and took it from him. I was hopeful there’d be a good chuckle inside.
“Renounce the devil! Make the Lord your personal saviour! Eternal life is waiting for you”.
Judging by the fervor with which he spat out these words, I had to be a particularly hopeless case. Mind you, he was spitting on my car too.
Then came the punch-line.
“Can you spare some change for a meal?” he asked. I suspected the “meal” he was talking about would most likely come in liquid form. He certainly smelled like he had a particularly good “meal” not too long ago.
My immoral heart turned to ice and every last bit of sympathy and tolerance I had for him, disappeared. I resented his presence outside my car. I wanted him to back away so I could continue my journey.
“Look, pal. Step way from the car! And you can keep your little pamphlet. (I handed it back) If it is money you are after, you should have just said so. Using eternal damnation as a sale’s pitch is not very convincing”.
The light turned green
“Go and molest people at bus stops. They are more likely to listen to you and it is safer. Someone may mistake you for a hijacker and shoot you before you had the chance to explain”.
He backed off, as I accelerated away from him to pursue my merry sinful ways.
Dammit! Nothing comes free these days. Not even salvation.