. . .understand that I am not a joiner?
I hope you all believe in something higher than yourself. I don’t care if it’s a gawd or a tree or a six foot French-Canadian mallard named Griff who lives under your bed.
But, please, don’t ask me to join in with your flock.
It’s not that I may not get a kick out of attending it’s just that I barely have time enough to fit in my higher power (drinking). But, some people never learn.
This gentleperson is allowing me unfettered access to the beauty and light that is their chosen spiritual focus. Which ends up annoying me.
Not that I won’t give them the time of day but I’m not much of a joiner (even though Griff sounds like a hell of a trip) of many things organized.
Again, I don’t snipe at them right away. It takes a few passes before I hit the fed up button and eject all illusions of politeness.
“So this Jesus guy,” I begin my end game. “He was Jewish, right?”
“And he was a carpenter, right?”
“So what synagogue did he attend? Shalom Depot?”
People should learn to leave after two declines. They really should.
If only so there would be fewer people in the world bugging their gawd with all that praying for me. No wonder so much in the world is fucked up. He’s spending a huge chunk of his time talking calls about me.