When Senator Mark Kirk, returning to work a year after his near-fatal stroke, told colleagues that when he was in a coma angels with New York accents appeared to him it naturally got me to thinking. Do angels really have New York accents? So using my contacts on the street I arranged for a meeting with an angel who graciously agreed to sit down to an interview with me.
MI: Welcome..um…..what should I call you?
Angel: Yo, just call me Vinnie for now.
MI: So you do have New York accents. Senator Kirk was right.
Angel: Most of us are from Noo Yawk. A few are from Bahstahn. But we don’t talk about ‘dem. Dey are a lower order of angels.
MI: So what does an angel do?
Angel: We got different jobs, you know. Me? I’m a guardian angel, capish?
MI: Really? Whose guardian angel are you?
Angel: Yours, you stronz!
MI: Now there’s no need to resort to name calling.
Angel: What’dya expect. You ain’t making it easy. I toin my back one second and ba-da-bing ba-da-boom you’se in an alleyway with the Swedish Olympic basketball team.
MI: I’m a reporter. I wanted to ask them about their ball handling skills. It’s a legitimate question.
Angel: I suppose. Excuse me I have to go put some quarters in da meter.
[He goes and puts four quarters in the meter.]
Angel: That should buy me an hour.
MI: Wow. Can’t you just wave your wings or something and extend the time on the meter?
Angel: Da big man, Michael da Archangel, wants us to keep a low profile. For insurance purposes.
MI: I see. Tell me -
Angel: Excuse me. See dat Is he gonna tow my freaking car away? I gotta take care of dis.
[The angel walks over to the man in the tow truck.]
Angel: Don’t tow my freaking car away!
[He turns the tow truck driver into a fish]
Angel: Alright I’m back.
MI: Nice way to keep a low profile.
Angel: That’s my freaking parking spot, man!
MI: Okay. Okay. Just one last question. As my guardian angel do you have any advice for me?
Angel: Stay away from Olivia Wilde, capish. Da broad’s dangerous.
MI: What did just say?
Angel: Stay away from da Wilde broad if ya knows what’s good for ya.
MI: That’s what I thought you said.
[He punches the guardian angel in the nose]
MI: You say anything bad about her again and we’re going to have trouble!
Angel: But she’s bad news. I’m just saying……
[Manhattan Infidel lunges at the angel and they grapple and fall to the ground. Manhattan Infidel continues punching him]
Angel: Help! Help! Police!
Policeman: What seems to be the problem here?
Angel: This man is beating me up!
Policeman: Is he smoking?
Policeman: Is he drinking a big gulp?
Policeman: Then this doesn’t concern the NYPD.
Angel: But he’s beating me up!!
Policeman: What did I just tell you punk?
[The policeman proceeds to beat the angel with his club]
Policeman: I though I had all you guinea hoods locked up. You, what’s your name?
MI: Manhattan Infidel.
Policeman: Manhattan Infidel, take a hold of him. Stand him up. Stand him up straight.
[He punches the angel and breaks his jaw]
MI: Nice uppercut.
Policeman: Freaking punk!
Note: Manhattan Infidel would like to state that his encounter with his guardian angel in no way is a reflection upon all angels, many of whom are hard-working, law-abiding citizens. Just don’t say nothing bad about Olivia Wilde. Punk. (361)