(via Facebook) George & Trayvon meet in a parallel universe...
"How cool would it be to live in a world where George Zimmerman offered Trayvon Martin a ride home to get him out of the rain that night?" - Nick Surkamp
status update/comment by Paul McAuliffe:
(Meanwhile - in a parallel universe) Trayvon Martin was walking down the street in the rain; he was armed with a deadly bag of Skittles. A car pulled up beside him and the driver's window rolled down. A voice called out: "Hey Bud! Need a ride somewhere?"
Trayvon wasn't in the habit of accepting rides from strangers. He asked: "Who are you?"
The driver leaned out the car window and showed his Neighborhood Watch ID. "I'm George Zimmerman; I'm with Neighborhood Watch here. Are you going to see one of the residents?"
Trayvon replied: "I'm on my way to visit my Dad and his fiance'."
George said: "Well, come on, then. Get in. You're getting soaked!"
Trayvon shrugged his shoulders, walked around to the passenger side and got in. He said: "Thanks, man. My Dad is at (gives address.) Why are you doing this? You don't know me."
George put the car in gear and started off. "Son, there was a time when I would've harassed the crap out of you just for being here. You know why? Because I was a racist paranoid gun freak who'd watched too many Dirty Harry movies. And I expressed my opinions, loudly, to anyone who'd listen. But in reality, being a lower vibrational bonehead didn't make me happy at all. I was pretty miserable."
George continued, "But then I started having all these vivid dreams involving concepts that were foreign to me. Love, compassion, understanding....stuff like that. And one day I just woke up and thought: Damn, maybe it's time I tried a different path.
"So I poured Krazy Glue down the barrel of my handgun and threw that bad boy away. I somehow knew this was a pivotal moment in my life. I wasn't quite sure how to stop being a bonehead, but I've been working on it ever since.
"I'm still with Neighborhood Watch, but I try to do my job in an intelligent, compassionate way. On those rare occasions where I see actual suspicious behavior, I call trained Law Enforcement Officers and let them do their jobs."
Trayvon was a bit uncomfortable listening to all this from a stranger, but he could sense that the man wasn't dangerous, and was grateful for the ride. "My Dad is at number ---, next house on the right."
George pulled up and stopped. "There you go!"
Trayvon went to open the door....but first turned and offered his hand. "Thank you, sir. My name's Trayvon Martin."
George shook his hand. "Good to meet you, Trayvon! Have a good evening."
Trayvon replied, "You, too." He got out of the car and walked up to the house.
George Zimmerman drove away and continued his rounds. He thought to himself: Nice kid.
THE END