Mar 092011
 

Surly BuddhistI tell you,” the owner of the book­store that I man­age said, as I shelved zom­bie books, “It was a near wrath experience.”

A near wrath expe­ri­ence?” I asked.

He nearly bit my head off.  I thought spir­i­tual seek­ers were sup­posed to be peace­fully, but this guy … he was … a … surly Buddhist!”

I rolled my eyes and picked up new vegan cook­books to shelve in the veg­e­tar­ian section.

You don’t believe me, do you?” he asked.

Look, I believe that you believe this man was a surly Bud­dhist,” I said, paus­ing to give the sweet potato french toast on the cover of Give Me Vegan, or Give Me Meth a sec­ond glance.  “But maybe this guy’s just an intro­vert and he came off a bit terse.”

The owner yanked the feather duster out from under the counter and pointed it at me.  “One day, you will believe.”  Then he turned his back on me, and pro­ceeded to dust the clear­ance cart.

I didn’t really give our con­ver­sa­tion another thought until sev­eral months later.  I was alone in the book­store on a beau­ti­ful May after­noon, when a 50ish bald man with glasses entered.  He  wore long, orange robes that flowed behind him, which reminded me of that scene from Priscilla Queen of the Desert with Guy Pearce rid­ing on top of the bus in the Out­back with the sil­ver trane of his gown flap­ping behind him.

I smiled at him and asked, “How are you?”

The man stopped and jerked his head toward me, then pursed his lips between his ample cheeks.  “Do you have books on Bud­dhism?” he said in demand­ing tone.

Right over here,” I said, and led him to our reli­gion section.

The man snatched a book off the shelf and flipped through the pages.  He sneered as if were a Tijuana bible and tossed it back on the shelf.  “You call these Bud­dhist books!”

Star­tled by his out­rage, I had to take a deep breath before I answered.  “Well, they are books about Bud­dhism, so, yes, I would call them Bud­dhist books.”  Cring­ing at slight edge to my tone.  I forced myself to smile and asked, “What exactly were you look­ing for?”

I don’t have to answer to you,” he said.  He swung a piece of his robes that hung down in front of him over his shoul­der, stuck his nose in the air, and stormed out.

Sud­denly, I heard the owner’s voice in my head:  “One day, you will believe.”

Oh my gosh, I thought, I’ve just had a near wrath expe­ri­ence with the Surly Buddhist …

To this day, I often find myself try­ing to fig­ure out this man’s story.  How did such an angry man become so enmeshed in such a reli­gion of peace, going so far as to shave his head and wear the tra­di­tional cloth­ing of Bud­dhist monks.  Some­how, my mind kept wan­der­ing back to the image of this man bent over a glass cof­fee table and suck­ing up lines of coke through a rolled up twenty dol­lar bill, then going berserk in a mini man­sion out in Stone Moun­tain, destroy­ing the inside with a prayer scroll.

What do you think his story is?