You meet all kinds of people in New York City, especially in Union Square.
Some come for food trucks, others for protests, and some—like us—for a little open-air conversation about spirituality.
It was 2018, and a group of us had gathered on the stone steps to talk about meditation, prayer, and belief systems.
Nothing heavy—just people sharing personal experiences, reflecting on how they found peace.
For a while, we were in our own little bubble, but two people sitting just outside our circle seemed intent on breaking up our gathering.
However, that was something the universe apparently didn’t like.
They didn’t know it yet, but the universe had a surprise in store for them.
Scoffs and Sighs
A man and a woman—probably a couple—sat a few steps above us, sipping iced coffees and clearly not there to participate.
From the moment they arrived, they were more like a live-action commentary track.
Whenever someone mentioned God or faith, the man let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, as if the mere sound of the words was unbearable.
The woman thought everything was hilarious. She kept stifling giggles, nudging the man with her elbow as if they were sharing an inside joke.
Their expressions said it all: Can you believe these people? They looked like they were itching to say something but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve yet.
We tried to ignore them, though it was obvious they wanted to make themselves part of the conversation—whether we invited them or not.
And then, right on cue, the tension broke.
Storming Off in Style
It happened when a kind older woman in our group—soft-spoken and earnest—started sharing a personal story.
She talked about how faith had given her strength when life felt overwhelming, and how prayer helped her stay grounded in difficult times.
It was a genuine, heartfelt moment, but to the man on the steps, it was apparently the last straw.
He stood up suddenly as if the word “God” had ignited something in him.
“God doesn’t even exist!” he shouted, loud enough to turn heads all across the plaza. “Anyone who believes in that stuff is just fooling themselves!”
His voice cut through the peaceful discussion like a car alarm in the middle of a meditation session. The woman beside him burst out laughing, her shoulders shaking as if he’d just delivered the punchline of the year.
They stood there, grinning, basking in what they must have thought was their intellectual victory.
The moment felt frozen in time—our little discussion left in stunned silence, with these two triumphant in their interruption.
Then, with a dramatic flourish, the man turned to leave, ready to march off down the steps like a philosopher who had just dropped the ultimate truth bomb.
But what came next?
Well, let’s just say the universe wasn’t done with him.
Gravity’s Got a Sense of Humor
As the man spun to make his grand exit, his foot slipped on the edge of the step. He stumbled forward with all the grace of a toddler learning to walk, arms windmilling wildly as he tried to catch his balance.
And here’s where things got even better.
In his frantic attempt to stop his fall, he reached out to steady himself—but the only thing within reach was the woman beside him. She had just started to shift her weight, preparing to step down the stairs behind him.
The moment his hand grabbed her arm, the two of them were in perfect synchrony—toppling forward together like an awkward human avalanche.
They hit the ground with a heavy thud, limbs tangled, iced coffee flying in every direction.
For a second, they just lay there in a heap on the cold stone, looking more like spilled mannequins than people.
Karma Always Lands on Its Feet
It took a second for the absurdity of it all to sink in.
The world seemed to pause as if even the pigeons were taking a moment to process what had just happened.
Then, somewhere in our group, a stifled laugh escaped.
That was all it took. The giggles spread like wildfire.
Soon, the entire group was laughing—softly at first, then harder, unable to hold back. And I’ll admit it: I was laughing the loudest.
There was something so perfect about it—something almost poetic.
The very man who had stormed off, determined to mock everyone else’s beliefs, had been humbled by nothing more than a concrete staircase and bad timing.
The man and woman scrambled awkwardly to their feet, brushing themselves off and trying to salvage what was left of their dignity.
Their smugness, however, had evaporated, replaced by matching expressions of irritation and embarrassment. They glared at us, their faces a mix of disbelief and bruised pride.
Without saying a word, they limped away, leaving behind a puddle of iced coffee, scattered straw wrappers, and a story I knew I’d be telling for years.
As they disappeared into the crowd, I could still hear the occasional snicker from someone in our group, replaying the scene in their mind.
Some moments in life are just too perfect to forget, and that afternoon in Union Square? That was one of them.