We sit inside the Taco Bell on Kennedy Boulevard, a stone's throw away from the Holland Tunnel. He speaks of the coming destruction of the cities of the plain, all stemming from the wickedness of its inhabitants. Like an amateur I ask how one goes about accomplishing something like this, to which he replies brimstone and fire.
I try to feign repulsion although admittedly there is something pleasing about the image of Joey and Cindy Adams John Cardinal O'Connor, Click supermodel Fredericka, all rushing out of Le Cirque frantically hailing yellow cabs in an onslaught of brimstone and fire. Hopefully there isn't a stupid grin plastered on my face.
"Would you also destroy the righteous with the wicked?," I ask, turning to find him finishing off his chili cheese burrito. Undoubtedly he sees me as some kind of moral and intellectual lightweight and probably isn't listening, but I press on all the same. "Indeed now, I who am but dust and ashes have taken it upon myself to speak to you: Suppose there were fifty righteous within the city; would you also destroy the place and not spare it for the fifty righteous that were in it? Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?"
"As for these fifty righteous," he says, "I will make you a deal. If you can find one righteous man I will spare all the place for his sake, but if that one righteous man is not found, you must be chained to a rock and forced to hear Michael Bolton's 'Time, Love and Tenderness' CD over and over for all of eternity."
On second thought he's probably right about the one righteous man bit. I mean, why stick my neck out? "What if I find one good rock and roll band in Sodom? Will you spare the city for one really good rock and roll band?"
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