Monk book regret / Hum Neeber

You should have bought the weird book from that monk guy. What the fuck were you thinking?

Shit.

It's too late now. You said "sorry" and "no thanks" and walked onto the subway leaving the monk guy standing on the platform, smiling.

He didn't seem crazy or anything. And he seemed to really want you to have his book. It all happened so fast it's hard to remember exactly what he said - something along the lines of "you look like a kind person" or "I couldn't help but notice you were an interesting individual". Whatever it was it didn't sound like the typical bullshit you hear from the guy begging for change outside the deli or the guy trying to sell his hip hop cd's. Actually that's not entirely true. The words themselves were the same bullshit but this time, with this guy, it somehow seemed sincere. Then he said his name was Ben or Bret or Andy or something and he was a monk. Then the train started coming. That's what fucked it all up - that fucking train. You looked at the train and he saw you look at the train so then he looked at the train and he knew he had to hurry. He pulls out this book and opens it to a page with a picture of a bunch of people standing in a row holding what looked to be a string of lights. The monk said "we started out here" and pointed to a person standing on the far end of the row. Then he pointed to the other end of the row and said "now we're here". The folks holding the lights might have been naked. You're not sure, you just nodded your head. By then train had arrived and the doors were opening. The monk had run out of time and could explain no more. He offered to give you the book and only asked for a small donation in return. You politely refused.

And now you're here.

And there he goes.

Fuck!

This guy, this book, could have changed everything. I mean it probably wouldn't have but what did you have to lose? All he wanted was a donation to cover the printing costs. That seemed reasonable. I mean this wasn't just a pamphlet or anything. This was a legitimate hard cover book with glossy color pictures. It could have been yours for $5. Fuck that, it could've been yours for $2. He definitely would have sold it for $2. Monks don't haggle. Christ, if you weren't so quick to dismiss him he might have given it to you for free. But no, you let your inherent misgivings of strangers yield the controls once again and you left the monk, his book, and his teachings standing there on the platform. Nice. And here you on your way back to your same old life coming from your tired old job.

Fate brought the monk to you. If you had waited for the next train the monk would've explained that to you. He would've answered your questions about God. You would've said, "Of course!" and "Exactly!" and "It all makes sense now!" Real change could have happened.

But you couldn't give a stranger $2. You couldn't wait for the next train and be a little late for dinner.

You should go back.

He's probably still there - looking for other kind people. That's it. You should totally go back!! . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuck it. That would take forever.