During my brutal commute on the train, I sometimes fantasize a little, and one of my favorite fantasies is telling a cellphone user to go Cheney themselves, and then (pick one) jamming their own phone down their throats / smashing my laptop over their heads / setting them on fire with the Molotov cocktail I keep in my briefcase / dragging them to the door and hurling them out on the track, right while they (pick one) are saying “Hi, I’m on the train” / detailing their symptoms / detailing their diagnosis / sharing their most intimate feelings / closing the sale / blurting out confidential and proprietary business information /phoning their parole officer.

But tonight I went to Drinking Liberally, and Susie showed me a better way.

I can just get our of my seat, walk up, and ask them—while they’re yammering away, of course—“Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior?” Then hand them the literature (which I’ll have to get hold of, somehow). Although perhaps a simple “Jesus loves you!” would do.

Aggression is great, no question about it. But sometimes passive aggression can be so much more fun, so much more satisfying.

I’m going to start practicing my glassy-eyed stare right now….