Random 3

Eighteen years earlier -- roughly, not to the day -- I'd found Jesus while shopping for stilts along the Old Kent Road. He'd been there a little while, just watching the world go by, occasionally saving a soul or two for old time's sake. Nothing serious.

He couldn't point me to Clown Central, but we fell into conversation about the ins and outs of the entertainment industry, in which he'd been such a big player for so many years. Very charming man, it turned out, quite the raconteur. He had stories about anyone who was anyone, some of them rather saucy too; that Pontius Pilate was a bit of a goer, apparently.

I suggested we repair to a local hostelry for a swift half, but he had a prior engagement.

"Why don't you come along? It'll be fun."

He led the way to a dodgy little speakeasy off East Street Market, and the ancient Chinese proprietor waved us through a bead curtain to the ill-lit and smoky back room. Several ageing men were playing cards around a green-baize table. I recognised one of them.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, saviour man! You'll be late for your own resurrection." My companion rolled his eyes. I guess it was a running joke he didn't find all that funny. I decided to keep my own half-baked witticism comparing the King to the King of Kings to myself.

"Pull up a chair, son of God. Your friend playin'?"

"Maybe I'll sit this one out."

"Suit yourself. The game is five card stud, deuces and one-eyed knaves wild, minimum bet 20 smackeroos. Ante up!"

I watched them play for awhile. Our boy was on a winning streak, but taking it far too seriously. The scintillating conversationalist of an hour before was long gone, and all those poker faces soon lost their novelty. I tried amusing myself by whistling Always On My Mind; the dealer shut me up with a scowl.

After a short while, one of the company bowed out -- it was Thomas Pynchon apparently, who'd have guessed? -- and I took the opportunity to sneak away too, with only a cursory wave to the messiah. Headed off through grimy council estates to the 171 bus stop.

I often wonder what would have happened if I'd played. But I'm not the gambling type.
Posted by matt at September 9, 2005 09:20 PM