Nathan and I were walking to the L the other morning when we passed a big guy just as he windmilled his arm in a windup reminiscent of a first pitch. Only instead of pitching the styrofoam cup in his hand into the nearest bin, he tossed it in a snowbank. Normally, if I say anything at all, it's sort of a passive aggressive mumbling to myself that wouldn't intimidate even the meekest of litterers. This time, however, it was so extremely ridiculous, that a "that was a shitty move" burst loudly from my mouth. Luckily, Nathan was also in the middle of a very sarcastic "Really?" so I could be relatively confident that he had my back should the big guy get shirty. It got even more ridiculous though as we heard the guy's comeback over his shoulder as he swaggered on, "Let God pick it up."
Huh? I don't know how styrofoam, a man-made, entirely chemical-laden product, would have any presence on God's radar. I mean, if God's not going to get involved in war, famine, or the division of Isreal, why the hell would He take care of litter?
I guess if the guy was going for a comeback to end all comebacks, that one was effective because I am still somewhat stuck on it. Even now, I don't know what I could possibly have said back. Perhaps, one of the following:
No, I'm pretty sure God wasn't the last one to use it, you were.
Sorry, God's busy cleaning the graffiti off the bus stop shelters right now.
If God is responsible for trash, then what are you still doing walking the street?