For some ungodly reason, my sister has an unnatural fear of the Amish. This seems to have started some 20 years ago when the family took a little road trip to Lancaster, PA. For those of you not in the know, Lancaster is Amish country. There’s some freakish fascination for those of us to live in the area to head up that way and gawk at people that live differently than we do. It’s almost like we treat it like some kind of strange zoo filled with animals instead of people. They dress differently than many of us, the dudes have funky beards, and the ladies keep their hair tucked away in a prim little bonnet. We ooh and ahh at the horse and buggies. We buy their cheese and eat their ice cream. We even buy their furniture and then proclaim proudly how we’re helping the Amish.
I’m not sure if it’s the delicious dairy products they produce, or the fact they name their sons Ezekiel and Jedediah, but something just freaks my sister the fuck out. For years she refused to step foot in Pennsylvania for fear the Amish might get her. Years of therapy seems to have helped her.
Yet things changed this afternoon when we happened to find ourselves in a place with about 20 Amish. The second she saw them my sister started sweating and looking around nervously. Again, not sure why. It’s not like the Amish are known for being violent. You don’t exactly read about Amish gangs in the news. There are never rumors about Amish gone bad who steal your wallet, kick you in the shins, and then make you grow a beard. Just doesn’t happen. But there she was sweating it out anyway.
I told her I wanted to get a picture of her with the Amish, but she quickly said no. When I told her I was kidding, she said she was thankful. “I’d never take their picture, I’d be afraid I’d take their souls,” I told her. “Those are the Hopi Indians, stupid,” she responded. What-the-fuck-ever.
You know what I’m getting her for Christmas? A picture of Lucy(fer) and Damien dressed up in full Amish garb. Take that!