a study in character

Sitting with Dublin Gwen at the front of Newbridge Church.
An officious looking fellow, all beard and blue shirt, bustles by laden with parcels for the homeless.
He begins struggling with the door.
Then turning to me he snaps his fingers.
"You, hey you, get the door will you."
I continue to converse with Gwen.
We are discussing the reality of evil.
I kid you not.
Gwen claims she encountered an evil spirit in her home last night. Our exact discourse centres on the capacity of the son of the Hebrew God to cast out fear.
There is more finger snapping from stage left.
Faintly I hear: "You, hey you."
Gwen says in exquisite Dublinese: "Oi tink he wants ya to open deh door for him."
I rise and walk in the opposite direction towards the centre of the church.
The parish priest, a sort of generalissimo figure with a Shakespearian voice and deep liberal left wing convictions, who does not know me personally, hails me as if he knows me personally.
The PP says: "I think that man wants you to help him with the door."
I reply gently but firmly: "You help him Joe."
Then I bow to the real presence of God on the altar and exit the building.