I ran over a group of Nuns today - on my bicycle. It was my
fault completely. I was a bit dazed after a week and a half of travel on the
sub-continent and I wasn't really concentrating properly and I was also
distracted.
I was riding
my bike down Moulmein Road past the big Catholic church when I thought I saw my
Danish neighbor Jens coming from the other direction. According to my Apartment
Building Manager Mr. Tan - Jens is apparently furious with me. Ever since the
floater affair. I suggested to Building Management that Jens may have been the
culprit in the shitting-in-the-pool incident and he was formally interviewed
about the event by both the Building Management team and the Singaporean
police.
I strongly
suspect that the dopey security guards of my complex with whom I have had a
long running battle told Jens that I was his accuser. I have written about this
before so I won't elaborate. Suffice to say I am avoiding Jens like the plague.
You would too. Imagine an enraged and deranged Santa Claus. This is Jens. He is
enormous, unstable and potentially very dangerous.
The group of
nuns emerged from the church unseen by me. I am not sure how a group of nuns is
referred to. I am thinking a flock or a gaggle but I don't think that this is
correct. I wasn't going very fast on my bicycle but I sort of side swiped a
couple of them. There were squeals and at least one shriek. The shriek may have
come from me.
I fell off the
bike but I bounced to my feet almost immediately horrified by what I had done.
I thought instantly that riding a bicycle into a flock of nuns must surely be a
deadly sin.
The seven deadly
sins are also known as the cardinal sins. They are lust, gluttony, greed, sloth,
wrath, envy and pride. Bowling over a gaggle of nuns is not included. Thank
God. However upon reflection it would appear that I have committed all seven of
the cardinal sins during my life and I am therefore likely going to burn in
hell anyway.
C'est la vie.
The nuns were
OK though. They were shaken but not injured and a couple of their habits were
in disarray. A habit is the tunic worn by nuns. Some people think that habits
are the headpieces worn by nuns but they are not. Those headpieces are actually
called coifs. Fortunately no coifs appeared to be damaged or knocked off during
my collision.
I of course
apologized profusely to the nuns and made sure that they were all OK. I was
flustered and anxious and was referring to them as sisters and mothers and
perhaps even your holinesses. It was all a bit of a blur. They in turn fussed
about me and asked if I was OK and one of them even picked up my bike.
Nuns are very
nice and considerate people - which is why they are nuns. I didn't try to
explain to them that I was distracted by an enormous and deranged Danish dude
who I had accused of shitting in my apartment pool as I didn't think that would
be appropriate. As I was checking on the well being of the nuns the guy who I
thought might be Jens walked past and he gave me a bit of a dirty look. It
wasn't Jens thank goodness but he had witnessed the whole event unfold. As he
walked past I gave him a look that demonstrated that I was a little embarrassed
and sheepish.
The habits
that we most commonly think of are not the attire worn by nuns. They are
established patterns of behavior that most people have. They are unconscious
behaviors. We tend to think of habits mostly in a negative sense and that they
are bad. I have quite a few bad habits. I have many actually. Smoking is
probably my worst habit although I think of this more as an addiction. I know
that it is disgusting and dirty and smelly and of course very unhealthy. I also
leave cupboard doors open and I leave the toilet seat up. There are others I that
I don't even dare mention.
My little
brother Richard had a bad habit when he was very little. He clutched himself. He
clutched himself a lot. Yes Mum I know that I am writing about my brother's
penis again and I am sorry. Richard doesn't mind it though. He really doesn't
and you have to admit that in nearly every photograph we have when we kids were
little - there is Richard clutching himself. He doesn't do it anymore of course,
.or at least I don't think he does. Some habits we can shake off or grow out
of.
I
apologized once again to the nuns as I dusted myself down and I rode off. They
all smiled very sweetly at me and a couple of them even blessed me as I pedaled
away.
They
were very nice and forgiving.
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