Okay, I’ve been punished for bragging so much in the last post. God put Leonard V. Kartoffelhammer (right number of syllables, not his real name. Though his real name is burned into my brain at this point) at the next table on the train ride in this morning, so for an hour and a half I heard him yelling — no, I was a party to his yelling — at Blue Cross about how they sent his bill late, but his collection notices on time. There were one or two moments of humor (“I’m going to have Carol’s ass ON A SPIT!”), but mostly it was him repeating over and over “I want a letter of apology.” “When does she come in?” “What’s your name, your WHOLE name?” “This is Leonard V. Kartoffelhammer!” “I want a letter of apology.” For ninety minutes.

I’m sorry the whole car had to suffer for my sin of pride, though it sounds like God uses Leonard to regularly punish other sinners: when we pulled in to Penn station, one guy who had been pretending to sleep cracked an eye and said “what is it now? Last time, you got a book sent to you, and you didn’t like it.”

L.V.K. muttered “I got that sorted out”, and stomped off the train, no doubt on his way to be God’s Divine Justice for the sin of gluttony in the Starbucks line.