Posted on

Hot Cup of God

I want to start this entry by apol­o­giz­ing, in advance, if you’re of strong reli­gious back­ground, maybe some nice porn will offend you less, thanks for com­ing though

Hal­loween approach­es, a time for pow­er­puff girls, and snick­ers bars, at least I thought so, seems a church not 3 min­utes from my house has oth­er plans, see the only thing THEY know about hal­loween is that it’s a pagan hol­i­day, and there­fore assum­ing christ wouldn’t have approved, flash­back to the first Hal­loween: Christ knock­ing on doors, pil­low­case in hand look­ing for jugs of water to bring to the keg­ger down by the sphinx

Now I don’t dis­like this church sole­ly for there stand against indi­vid­u­al­ly sized milky way bars, no I have two oth­er rea­sons to dis­like them; rea­son one; they have a Star­bucks IN THE CHURCH, I’m absolute­ly not exag­ger­at­ing this at all rea­son two; The bath­rooms in the before­men­tioned Star­bucks are open to cus­tomers only, no you don’t have to be a parish­ioner, but you do have to at least buy a cook­ie, if you have to use the bath­room. so much for chris­t­ian char­i­ty.

So I’ve been a Star­buck cus­tomer a few times, hey some­times you have to go, the few time I’ve been there, I’ve made it a point to ‘test’ the bound­ries a bit. It seems com­ments like “jesus, that coffee’s hot” and “god damn that cake is deli­cious” are per­fect­ly fine with­in ‘gods’ bean­ery, but try to walk with your cof­fee, or soy lat­tee chia in my case, into the chapel, well, let’s just say the mon­sign­or has no sense of humor.

me: hey there father, how’s god today?

the col­lar: ummm yeah, you can’t bring that bev­er­age into the church.

me: but I bought it here, did I miss a sign?

the col­lar: son, this is house of wor­ship, a place of faith, we ask that all bev­er­ages stay in the cof­fee shop

me: father, when you say ‘WE’ does that include god?

the col­lar: I guess in a man­ner of speak­ing it does

me: so GOD is ask­ing me to drink my cof­fee in the Star­bucks?, silence… at this point I was glad I was wear­ing sneak­ers, because I ful­ly expect­ed a light­ning bolt to roast my beans on the spot

the col­lar: I don’t real­ly appre­ci­ate your atti­tude or your tone, jesus christ I’ve pissed off a priest, I thought for­give­ness was in the job descrip­tion

me: I cer­tain­ly don’t want to piss you off

the col­lar: is the vul­gar­i­ty real­ly nec­es­sary? this is a church after all

me: father, we’re all alone here, are you seri­ous­ly telling me you’re offend­ed by the word ‘piss’?

the col­lar: We’re not alone here, we’re nev­er alone any­where [I cut him off at this point, we’d reached a line even I wasn’t will­ing to cross, I’ll not fuck with the dude’s beliefs, if he want to believe that god is tru­ly a holy spir­it with­in the church walls, and that god is the breeze blow­ing through the trees, well then, who am I to say he isn’t]

I mean I only went in to use the bath­room any­how. As I walked away he screamed after me “BLESS YOU!” … darn, I was pos­i­tive that wasn’t the verb he was going to use.

So any­way, I think I, going back for Hal­loween, maybe dressed as the Pope, stay tuned for part 2: ‘what no can­dy?