The Devil came for me on a motorcycle

I was driving to work this morning. Earlier on Fridays, which is good for traffic. Very few folks are even going to work, let alone early, like me. My mind on the ice coffee and the breakfast panini I would be stopping off for in just a few minutes. Then I realized I was behind the slowest person alive.

My commute, while not a long one, was frustrating at 15 miles under the posted speed limit. As we plugged along up a hill, I took a glance to see if anyone was behind me, also annoyed.

There, staring back at me in my rear view mirror, was a man on a motorcycle. Gaunt, face half in shade from the morning light lifting over the tree tops. His eyes, piercing, even at the distance he was at behind me.

While he handled the bike smooth and even, he seemed so odd upon the seat. He didn't fit the type that would have that bike. It was unsettling to see his thin, pale frame controlling the iron beast that was the Harley.

77 degrees and it wasn't even 7 am yet.....a chill ran down my spine. "He looks like the Devil on a motorcycle." I said out loud, to no one.

He just continued his icy stare.

As we came around a bend to a stop sign, the light shifted and he appeared to have dark circles under his eyes, his old skin, worn with age, catching the light on the time etched crags.

Then I thought.....what if it was my time? What if the Devil had come for me? Working in tandem with the car in front to slow the traveler, so that Ol' Scratch could pull up along side of me at the next stop.

"Good morning miss," he would say with a Marlboro rasp and the smell, off his understated leather jacket, would be Old Spice with just a hint of sulfur and a touch of clove. "My name is Mr. Azazel, and if you would be so kind to hop on my bike with me....it's time to go."

And I would, cuz who can resist the Devil? And I would wonder, "What did I ever do so wrong? I thought I was a pretty good person." And he would read my thoughts and simply say, "They all think that....even the worst of them."

We came to the intersection that pitchforks into three paths. The slow driver continued right, the 'Devil' went left, and I continued forward. I got to the my lil coffee stop and was a bit hazy from my imagination. Bemused that I could even come up with such silliness.

"It's going to be hot as hell again out there today."

"Yes," I said to the owner, "hot as hell."

But, alas! what poor Woman is ever taught that she should have a higher Design than to get her a Husband? ~ Mary Astell

June 24th, it happened. After a failed attempt in 2009, 2011 brought marriage equality to NY.

Can you believe?

We had been married in MA in 2010, for fear a new NY governor would undo the bill that stated that: if you are married in a state that has gay marriage, NY will recognize your marriage.

So we played it safe. After waiting and waiting for our home state of NY to do the right thing, we wanted to get in, while the gettin' was good. So off to the Cape we went, to spend our money in another state.

Then it happened. The votes were there, in a state who's population is equal to all the other six states that have same sex marriage, combined! It was HUGE!

And while there were no new laws that would protect us. No new benefits to indulge in. There are over 1,200 laws protecting married couples: 100 are state, the rest are federal. We would have to be happy with the 100 while the federal end is not available to us.

It was, personally, a bitter sweet achievement. To be truthful, I really didn't expect to feel any different.

Then I drove to work that next Monday.

As I rode the streets of my lil town, with all the other cars, it dawned on me, "I'm equal to you. And to you. And yes...to you!" There was a new sense of "safety". That the laws, in this state, to a certain level, made me equal.

What a strange feeling that is, indeed.

How many people can say they feel like they are more 'equal' on a Monday morning?