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THE PENCOPAL PROJECT

2004-06-08 - 8:45 a.m.

LAST NIGHT I INTERRUPTED A COMMERCIAL FOR JESUS

I was 15 minutes early for yoga and decided to waste some time buying gas. Little did I know Jesus would be lurking at the Cumberland Farms in Fort Washington, Pa.

At first I thought I heard the voice of God as I pressed the button for regular unleaded. I thought, �But God, Plus is too expensive!� Then I realized it was only the cashier, speaking over the PA system. After $12 only filled up half of my tank (fucking oil baron bastards), I went inside to pay. The cashier�s maroon hued Cumberland Farms golf shirt took on an ethereal glow as she tried to ram Jesus down a customer�s throat.

�It is only by the grace of the Lord that good things happen in this world,� she said calmly.

The customer was more heated than Venus was as it crossed the sun this morning. �How can you say that, look at what�s happening out there,� he yelled, throwing his arm up and pointing to the gas islands for emphasis.

What the fuck does this have to do with my $12, I wondered. I�m just trying to get to yoga.

�The only thing you can do is accept Christ as your savior,� she said, shaking her head in pity for the heathen to which she spoke.

�Hah!� he said. �You believe that getting saved is going to change things?�

Another girl walked in and stood behind me, waiting to pay for her gas.

�I believe we�ve just walked into a hidden camera version of The 700 Club,� I whispered.

I leaned forward and impatiently slid my money toward the cashier, like you would if you were trying to get a bartender�s attention. It was all in vain; she was too busy trying to convert the Honda Accord-driving nonbeliever.

�What about war, what about death, what about suffering?� he yelled.

�Just accept Christ as your savior, just accept Christ,� she said softly, as if repeating a mantra. Speaking of mantra, I thought, take this money, bitch, I�ve got to get to yoga. Convert motherfuckers on your own time.

She took the money, and angrygodman and I left at the same time. I looked straight ahead, and I felt him looking at me, as if searching for someone to back him up.

�Do you believe that,� he exclaimed.

I looked in the opposite direction, as if Jesus himself was standing over there. No way was this guy pulling me into his crazy drama. Has he no one in this world to talk to? Who the hell argues life�s hard questions of God and religion with the cashier at Cumberland Farms?

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