This is a true story of a brief encounter I had with an elderly stranger.
About the title
- Bodhisattva Asshole - that would be me. And I must believe this, since my stranger had managed to so designate me five times as he got progressively angrier. There's an inspiring passage in the Lotus Sutra which goes something like this, except for the part I highlight in yellow:
Flower Virtue, you see only the body of Bodhisattva Wonderful Sound
that is here. But this bodhisattva manifests himself in various different
bodies and preaches this [Lotus] sutra for the sake of living beings in
various different places. At times he appears as King Brahma, at times
as the lord Shakra, [at times as:]...a layman believer...the wife of a rich
man...a young boy or a young girl...an asura [which is a kind of demon]...
or a non-human being, and so preaches this sutra. At times he even
appears in the form of an asshole, if that is what is needed to preach
salvation.
:UNQUOTE.
Yeah, I took the liberty of adding that last sentence in an otherwise quoted
section, yet I feel that addition is well within the spirit of that quote. Some-
times it takes an asshole, or at least one who is perceived by another as
being one, "if that is what is needed to preach salvation." Which, as you
will see, is what I tried to do.
- verses - "Versus" which means* "against or as the alternative to or in contrast with" would have sufficed. But I wanted something more elegant. When I used to teach chess to 4th through 6th graders, my students would come up to me and ask, "Can I verse you in chess?" Which was their way of saying they wanted to play a game - them versus me." But in the context of my story, I wanted to (in effect) speak in verses so as to elevate to the level of poetry my responses to the angry stranger's crude outpouring. But not angry poetry, since I was hoping to defuse him. This was made difficult because he didn't speak much English and I knew even less German.
- Herr Scheisskopf - In German, this means "Mr. Shithead." Even though my antagonist verbally abused me, I didn't respond in kind. Days later, it occurred to me that I could have called him Mr. Shithead, but I knew I wouldn't have done any such thing. Going tit-for-tat in a name-calling contest is very unbecoming.
The Story
Something weird happened to me on Sept. 9. I was sitting in the sidewalk section of a fine Chicago restaurant called La Bocca della Verita eating a pizza. Toward the end of my meal, this 73-year-old German guy exits the restaurant and just stands at the door staring at me. Never seen him before. Maybe he thought it was odd that a customer would be sitting outside since it was unseasonably warm. And in fact I was the only customer sitting outside - which is maybe why I caught his attention. He starts chatting but his English is very poor. But it looks like he wants to talk, so I motion him to sit down at my table. I even offered him a slice of my pizza which he declined.
The language barrier was quite a problem but we managed to exchange some info over a 5 to 10 minute period of mostly silence. But one thing I picked up on was he didn't like the revelers at a block party a few blocks down the street which he pointed to. At that point, I just figured him to be a cranky old guy who didn't like young people having fun.
I managed to convey that I have cancer, which was probably a mistake since (it seems) he saw that as a sign of weakness.
My waiter appeared with my check, which I paid on the spot. He was a young black guy who waited on me last time I was there. So I thought to engage him in a brief conversation "How many civil wars took place in the United States?" When he answered "one," I told him, "That's a common misconception, since that was really a War of Secession. A civil war is one in which two or more factions fight for control of the central government. But the Confederates weren't trying to take over; they were trying to leave. Now, you might wonder, how did it get to become known as our Civil War?" [That last question led to another minute or so out of our 3 or 4 minutes of conversation.]
When my waiter left, the old guy started to get very belligerent. After saying, "Drink your fucking coffee," he said he didn't like that I was talking to the waiter. He called me an asshole, and threatened to overturn the table I was sitting at by making a motion to do so. I think he got confused when I agreed with him in a polite and even voice, "Okay, I'm an asshole." Obviously, he was trying to push my buttons by repeating his charge four more times. But I didn't bite; I stayed calm and didn't try to trade barbs with him.
I quickly sized him up, thinking, "Okay, I'm 11 years younger but I'm weak from cancer, and he looks like he's done menial labor all his life, so he's undoubtedly stronger than I am." I hate judging any book by its cover, since I'm supposed to try to see the Buddha within everybody who needs just the right conditions under which to emerge. But part of me was thinking, "I'll be damned if I'll let a 73-year-old guy kick my ass."
And then it occurred to me: He had been trying to hit on me and resented that I (apparently) showed some interest in another guy. I wasn't afraid of him but was surprised at how hateful he had suddenly become. I asked him if he'd been drinking (which he'd obviously been), "Do you drink? Beer? Wine? [Fumbling for some German, I said] Schnapps?" He said, "sometimes." I replied, "Maybe you should stop."
That only made him angrier, so I told him he should pray to God. I repeated that several times and made a praying motion with my hands. He seemed to think about that for a moment, or at least it slowed him down. I took that pause to get up, urged him to pray again, and I walked away. I didn't know if he'd follow me or try to take a swing at me, but at least I was aware that could happen. But, no, he just sat there as I turned the corner to walk to my bus stop.
I'll talk to just about anybody, but of course that's not always a good idea. Still, how could anyone know in advance who will be cool and who will be a jerk? Go figure.
Anyway, even though part of me felt he was a fucking, intolerant, Nazi, I remembered that I'm supposed to pray for his enlightenment. At one point, I even had a Plan B, which I quickly rejected. If he had tried to strike me when I was seated or, as he indicated, had tried to overturn my table, I thought I would douse him with my cup of very hot coffee. But then I thought, some people magnify in their minds any such assaults to the level of "I'll kill him if I ever see him again." And I couldn't have that, since I'm very fond of the Lincoln Square neighborhood and wanted to go back.
When I told a gay friend about this encounter, I said, "Gay would be too noble a label for him, since he seems like the kind who would beat the crap out of any guy he paid to give him a blow job. He's just one of a lot of mentally disturbed people lurking just beyond our horizon."
Oh, one last bit: I thought the name of this restaurant was prophetic in a way, since "La Bocca della Verita" means "the mouth of truth." I hoped that some small bit of truth managed to come out of my mouth as a contrast to the anger that poured out of his.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Steven Searle, just another member of The Virtual Lotus Samgha as well as
a former candidate for US President (in 2008 and 2012), and
Founder of the Independent Contractors' Party
Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com
Sources:
[source: see below]* - page 336 of "The Lotus Sutra and Its Opening and Closing Sutras," published in 2009 by the Soka Gakkai.
"Versus" which means* - the definition which follows is from www.thefreedictionary.com
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