the roof

one of my favorite things about new york is the roofdeck i have on the top of my apartment building. you can see the well-lit financial district from one end, the empire state building from the other. it faces the east river, offering a quiet respite from the hustle of the city. roofdeck parties full of friends and revelry have become a favorite pastime of mine.

sometimes i go up there to have a private phone conversation, a nightcap, or even just for a quiet moment with a view. but lately something strange has happened on the roof. something that hasn't ever happened to me, really. on two separate occasions while enjoying a cold beer and a cigarette, god spoke to me. out loud [i know, i know. but i'm dead serious]. and it went something like this:

god: hey.
me: noooo.
god: i want to show myself to you.
me: no thanks.
god: trust me.
me: nah, i'm good.
god: you'll see.
me: oh will i?
god: yes. you see the sky over there?
me: i know where this is going. you made it blah blah blah.
god: [laughing]. i'm just saying.
me: whatever.
[round two, the next night]
god: hey again.
me: look, i don't have anything to give.
god: that's ok.
me: um, yeah don't believe you. i'm not changing.
god: you don't have to.
me: [laughing] yeah, still don't believe you.
god: why don't you trust me?
me: everything about you is so fucked up in my mind.
god: what did i do wrong?
me: [pause] touche. [another pause] what do you want from me?
god: just be.
me: be what?
god: just be.
me: whatever.
god: you'll see.
me: that's your new favorite phrase, huh?
god: you'll see.
me: whatever. i'm not changing. [at this point i think i actually stuck my fingers in my ears]

i feel like a crazy person. please just have me committed, straight jacket and all. at first i thought maybe it was a clever homeless person hiding in the plants just fucking with me, but i checked. no one was there. and minus some beers and camel lights, i wasn't on anything. the only conclusion i'm left with: it was definitely god. i'm angry and sad and irritated and annoyed. damnit. we had a good thing going. he finally left me alone, and i was free to roam. freer than i've ever been. honestly doing quite lovely just going about my business. and here comes mr. "look-at-the-sky-why-don't-you-trust-me-i-want-to-show-myself-to-you-you'll see". as if him showing up wasn't enough to anger me, he had to speak out loud and make me feel like one of the crazies on bowery who's convinced the government is following them.

so what does this mean? hell if i know. i hope it was a mistake, an err in almighty [or whatever] judgement. he got the wrong person on the wrong night on the wrong roof, like santa claus giving me a barbie that one year. i most definitely didn't ask for the barbie, nor did i ask for this. but this one might not be up to me.