Western Pennsylvania

On Being Duped by Religion (At the Three Rivers Arts Festival)

2015-07-17 picklesburgh-029I work across the street from the Three Rivers Arts Festival. One morning during festival week a man walked up to me. A thin Caucasian man with brown hair. About my height.  (I am 5’9.”)

He bowed.

I think that he told me that I had pretty eyes.

He told me, “I would like to give you these books.”

He handed me four religious texts. I recognized the largest of these books, the Bhagavad-Gita, because I had to memorize it for a test years ago. A holy book of Hinduism.

I thanked the nice white man who bowed.

Then the man said something along the lines of, “Can you give me $15?”

I gave the nice white man who bowed  $15.

Here’s why:

This all happened on a Monday. Two days earlier, Jonathan and I went to the Strip District to get sandwiches at Peppi’s. We know the Strip District well enough to know that finding free Strip District parking at lunch time on a Saturday is like brushing a cat’s teeth. So we called in our order to Peppi’s  while we were still on Route 28. Jonathan dropped me off in front of Peppi’s.  I went  to retrieve our food.

The lone woman already figured out that I came in for a pickup. (I think that the empty shopping bag that I carried gave it away.)

She said, “You go first.”

Then she said, “Just pay it forward.”

Thanks to this lady I was out of Peppi’s with our lunch soon enough for Jonathan to pick me up after the first time that he drove around the block.

Then Jonathan and I spent the rest of the day at the festival.

The events at Point State Park included included performance art around a fake boulder called “Black Rock Negative Energy Absorber.”  I fell in love with the ideas it presented. I watched that show twice that weekend. I still love the memory of that show. The show inspired me to dispel the negative energy in my life and to be open to new ideas.

And I desperately wanted new ideas.

I was at a point in my life where I waited every day for a sign.

Also, I was looking for a way to Pay It Forward to the woman in the Strip District.

So Monday morning, when the nice white man who bowed walked up to me and handed me new ideas, I gave him $15.

That nice man needs the money. 

He knew that I needed to Pay It Forward. 

A higher power told him to approach him.

A higher power told him to give me the Bhagavad-Gita.

A higher power wants me to have these books.

So one day last June, I walked into my office with four texts of Hinduism.

 

This week is Three Rivers Arts Festival week again. I spent today’s lunch break at the Gateway Center section of the festival.

A thin short Caucasian man with brown hair walked up to me.

He bowed.

“I like your necklace,” he said.

Then he handed me four books on Hinduism.

Four books that I already own.  Including the Bhagavad-Gita.

“No thanks,” I told the white man who bowed at me.

He walked away.

I walked to the official Three Rivers Arts Festival booth because it stood only twenty feet away.

“Where do I go to report a solicitor?” I asked.

I described the man and his holy books and his teal t-shirt. I pointed out the direction of his path.

“Oh, he’s back again,” said one of the woman in the tent.

“Thank you for telling us. I’ll take care of him,” said the lone man in the tent.

So I admit with great shame that last year I fell for a con from a nice white man who bowed.

Yes, shame.

First off, my grandpa was a policeman in downtown Pittsburgh for decades, so I should really know better.

But also – also – I fantasize that things happen by divine chance. The man approached me last year because the powers that be wanted me to have the Bhagavad-Gita.

But if this were true, why would the same man approach me again today?

I let somebody manipulate me with religion. Manipulate me using one of the holiest books of one of the world’s oldest religions.

This isn’t an honorable use of any holy book from any religion.

I let somebody do this because he looked a lot like me.

Also, I still need to pay it forward to the nice lady from the Strip District.