When I lived in Manhattan, I was once a patient at St. Vincent's Hospital in the Village. While there, I saw an appalling thing. Even today I shudder to think of it.
There was a knock at my door one morning and a priest stuck his upper body into my room. Ugh. He had a rosary dangling from one hand and some sort of spooky religious "vestment" in the other. Ugh. And he said, in a sweet voice:
"Would you like a prayer?"
Ugh! It was like he was some kind of mad cigarette girl at an old-time nightclub, but marketing prayers instead of smokes. I looked at him with open disgust and said, in my best Bea Arthur voice, "No! Get out."
What is wrong with these people? They should hide in darkened churches and leave normal people alone. There are a lot of sick people in hospitals and not one of them is in need of a prayer.
"Would you like a prayer?" Ugh!
