I am happy to announce that I am a sacrilegious jerk.
A few days ago Ben and I went to a visitation to support our friend, Ms M, whose dad just died.
Trying to be supportive I said,
Ms M, take me on a little tour of that photo collage over there.
She took me by the hand, led me over to the big photo collage, and started pointing at photos and giving me a little story about each one.
Then she tapped her finger on a black and white photo of a young family sitting on a hillside beside a church steeple that sat at the top of a small valley.
She said,
Check this one out. This is my entire family when my brothers and I were still pretty little.
I said,
Ahhhhh…
She said,
This photo ended up being in a religious magazine with this whole article about how we were the perfectly pious Catholic family.
And I started to say ‘ahhhhh’ again, but was interrupted…
…by Ms M and all of her brothers who had come over to see her little tour of the photo collage laughing like hyenas.
I said,
Soooooo…is this an indication that you weren’t the perfectly pious Catholic family?
And they all laughed even harder and her brother who is a priest shook his head and said,
Ohhhhhh yeah! You’d be right about that.
Later, after Ben and a few friends and I had gone outside for a break, we came back to discover that the doors to the room where the visitation was being held had been closed. We could hear a religious service taking place behind those doors.
The funeral home director approached us and said,
You can go in. It’s OK.
I said,
No. I’m OK. Plus, they’re really not that into it anyway.
He said,
They’re having a religious service.
I said,
Thank you, but I don’t know how to do Catholic things properly.
He said,
Why didn’t you just admit you wouldn’t know what to do if you went back in there.
I said,
I just did.
And one of our friends who had been standing beside me the whole time said to the funeral home director,
You’re kind of rude.
I said,
That’s kind of funny.
And the funeral home director said,
And you two are kind of sacrilegious jerks.
I said,
Well, I did admit I wouldn’t know what to do, and they’re really not that into it, and maybe my friend here would have a hard time with that Catholic stuff because she has a trick knee and they do a lot of stand up, sit down, spin around.
And the funeral home director started to talk again but our friend cut him off by saying,
I can’t believe you told him about my trick knee.
And I said,
Oh well. So I did. Let’s go.
And when we got outside my friend was laughing and said,
You’re such a jerk!
Just last night I was driving home from a meeting and coffee afterward with a good friend and my thinking went something like this,
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There’s a spider on the windshield. Is it on the inside. No, there are two spiders!
-
Shit, there’s a cop. How fast am I going?
-
Oh God, those spiders are going to the corner where I can’t smack them.
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I wonder what my friend meant when she said she wouldn’t do well in prison?
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How do these windshield wipers work?
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Did she mean she’s going to kill her mom?
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Crap, did I miss my turn?
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Oh goodie, they put the pretty lavender lights back up on the bridge.
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Or maybe she’s just going to take that little bell she likes from her dad’s desk.
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Fuckin’ global warming…flooding those lights out on the bridge.
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Oh God, that cop turned around.
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Is my license expired? I think so. Maybe there really is a 30 day grace period.
-
Where are those spiders?
And the spiders disappeared and the cop didn’t pull me over and I never did remember how to turn on the windshield wipers and I really don’t know if there is a 30 day grace period on my driver’s license and before I knew it I was almost home and had not even come close to fully mentally registering the fact that I was driving a vehicle for over 15 minutes.
And I started concentrating on the fact that I as actually driving a vehicle and also wondering if I should have said what I said to my friend about how to get the little bell off of her recently deceased dad’s desk without having to have a fight with her mother that would end up with her mother being dead and her not doing well in prison.
She had asked,
If I just put that little bell into my purse, you know, kind of steal it…is that wrong?
I said,
Yes.
She said,
But right now she’s planning on throwing that little bell away.
I said,
So, it’s still hers.
She said,
But if I tell her I want it she’ll pretend it’s important to her just to give me grief. And she’ll still throw it away anyway when I’m not around.
I said,
Next time you’re at her house just go into your dad’s office with her, open up your purse, pick up the little bell and say – I’m taking this home and making it mine – and plop it into your purse and go home.
She said,
No shit?
I said,
No shit.
And she said,
That’s kind of like you’re telling me to be a big jerk.
And that made me think of a time when a friend of mine was on a planning committee for a Thanksgiving recovery event and wanted to give the grocery store some big long bullshit sob story to try to get three turkeys instead of two out of the ‘buy one get one free’ special they were having.
I said,
Why the bullshit sob story? Why not just find the manager and say – I want three turkeys instead of two out of your buy one get one free special – and see what they say?
She said,
No shit?
And I said,
No shit.
And there were three turkeys instead of two at the Thanksgiving recovery event. I wanted to know if there were three turkeys because of my friend finding the manager and being direct or if she’d pulled off her big long bullshit sob story.
So I just stared at her until she said,
You’re such a jerk.
And now I’m thinking I’m so glad to be a sacrilegious jerk.
