This past weekend, a man rented the studio apartment down the hall from me. It was obvious he was Messican or a light skinned nigra so I immediately installed a security system since I felt like the LORD told me to. I don't know what kind of drugs he sells but I am keeping a close watch because I don't want my gentrified block going ghetto.
Last evening was the first I had any confrontations with him and I am concerned - which is why I ask for prayer for his Salvation(R). He got on the elevator and looked over at me (Obviously looking to see if I was carrying my wallet). Imagine my surprise when he spoke to me in American (although with a weird accent). He said:
"Hey, where all the beaches at, mang?" I replied, "Well, the beaches are all out on Long Island mostly - but there is a nice beach in Staten Island, too." He looked at me like I had three heads.
"No, mang!" He said. "Where all the BEACHES, mang? BEACHES!" I repeated what I had told him and he seemed to grow angry for some reason.
"You probably never had a beach in your life, mang." I told him that I most certainly had been to a beach but that I don't care for beaches because of the nudity. He shook his head and said:
"I'll make you my beach if you don't just shut up, mang."
I told him that I didn't think the building super would want anyone building a beach but that he could ask. When we got to our floor he smirked at me and said, "You are a special kind of stupid, mang."
I told him that I was a certified equine gnathologist but that didn't seem to impress him. I slipped a few tracts about being born again under his door before I went to bed last night. Pray that he doesn't rob us and that he will find Jesus.
Last evening was the first I had any confrontations with him and I am concerned - which is why I ask for prayer for his Salvation(R). He got on the elevator and looked over at me (Obviously looking to see if I was carrying my wallet). Imagine my surprise when he spoke to me in American (although with a weird accent). He said:
"Hey, where all the beaches at, mang?" I replied, "Well, the beaches are all out on Long Island mostly - but there is a nice beach in Staten Island, too." He looked at me like I had three heads.
"No, mang!" He said. "Where all the BEACHES, mang? BEACHES!" I repeated what I had told him and he seemed to grow angry for some reason.
"You probably never had a beach in your life, mang." I told him that I most certainly had been to a beach but that I don't care for beaches because of the nudity. He shook his head and said:
"I'll make you my beach if you don't just shut up, mang."
I told him that I didn't think the building super would want anyone building a beach but that he could ask. When we got to our floor he smirked at me and said, "You are a special kind of stupid, mang."
I told him that I was a certified equine gnathologist but that didn't seem to impress him. I slipped a few tracts about being born again under his door before I went to bed last night. Pray that he doesn't rob us and that he will find Jesus.




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