It comes up like this:
“Hi” I say, “I had a great day yesterday! My pastor said some really good stuff like, [insert fake good stuff here]!”
We laugh at my ability to retell fake jokes. Then I look both ways for HR and once assured that we are clear say, “Are you religious? I hope it doesn’t offend you that I am. I mean, I’m cool with you not loving God and going to Hell. That’s your prerogative. Dust off my sandals and all that.”
They laugh some more because I’m frakkin hilarious! After wiping away the laughter tears, they say, “I’m a Christian.”
Elated, I say, “Sweet! Where do you go to church?”
They look at me, sadly, probably thinking about how baby seals get clubbed in the head by seal abusers. They snap out of their sad memories long enough to say, “I know I should go but I haven’t been for a while.” Then they get sad again. I understand. Baby seals are so cute!
So I say, “I know how hard it can be to find a church in the greater Nashville area. Especially now that Obama has shut them all down,” referring to the tell-on-your-neighbor 800# initiative that Obama put into place to root out the religious zealots who don’t like to have their parents told that they should die because they cost too much to keep fixing them. It’s what we do with old cars, right? (I wonder what I could get for my dad. Probably less on account of him not having legs anymore.)
They say, “Yeah. I just moved here.”
I say, “Wow. How long have you been here?”
They say, “Three years. But I visit home a lot because I love tacos and you just can’t get good Mexican food here anymore now that the illegals have gone home because of the high unemployment rate.”
I nod. Tacos are worth travelling for.
My stomach growls, probably complaining that there are no Del Tacos in Tennessee. I ignore it, “So how about LifeChurch.tv or a radio or TV preacher? Ever listen to them?”
They look at me quizzically -it’s the only word that fits- and answer, “Why would I trust someone on the Internet, TV or the radio when there are so many churches that I could just go to and get to know the pastors in there? I would hate to be given heresy and false teaching! That could totally mess me up and I could lose my salvation because I’m not Baptist.”
After sorting out their oddly constructed response, I say, “Surely, you must read the Word a lot then, right?”
They answer, “How can I read a word? What is this a practical joke?” They laugh. I don’t though, because I’m the only one allowed to tell jokes. It’s in my boss’ contract. “No I haven’t been reading the Bible much.” they admit.
My mind opens up and I have a vision of demons sitting on the reps shoulder, taunting me with Del Taco green burritos hot and melty with cheddar cheese and extra green sauce. I left my wand at home so I ignore them for now.
But I get it. My rep claims to be a Christian but doesn’t go to church, listen to teachers, read the Bible or share her demons’ Del Taco with me. Clearly, this is a divine appointment. I know what I have to do.
I have to travel to a state with Del Taco. After all, there isn’t anything I can do for “Christians” like this.
The worst part? My frakkin sandals are dusty again.