Standing outside a zone three tube station freezing your proverbials off in order to evangelise a bunch of unevangelisable London commuters whose only interest is in getting home takes some dedication. I was actually quite impressed. Not impressed enough to stop walking, naturally, but impressed also by the politeness of the enquiry. None of this in your face "Jesus can save you!", but merely a quiet question. Would I be considering Jesus tonight? I thought about it briefly, and decided that no, on balance, and just like every other night, I wouldn't be. But I felt compelled to tell him, especially seeing as everyone else was ignoring him, that I would be considering wine as an alternative. And did he have any?
No, he didn't. This doesn't make me anti-Christian you understand, just tired and thirsty. I am utterly disinterested in all religions in equal measure, but I am fascinated by the ability of the word of God to compel people to do really bizarre things. From blowing themselves up all the way through to the extremes of standing around outside tube stations muttering quietly. I have to say that 8pm on a dark, wet and windy night does not strike me as the best the time to have a go at converting people, and I'd imagine his success rate, if getting a "tick" is the measure, was bang on zero. Maybe it's just the taking part, and if so, good luck to him. Personally I reckon he'd do a bit better in Berkshire and Surrey, as things are beginning to look a little biblical there. What do you mean Somerset? Where's that? Honestly.
Talking of things biblical, here's a Quail. In the desert no less. Manna from heaven, as they say.