Another day of joblessness. And it's starting to get to me. I mean, it's not like not having a job has devalued my self-worth. I'm still the most important person in the world, afterall. Obviously, my smug sense of self-satisfaction is still intact. And isn't hubris the thing that means the most in life?
So what do I do at night, me and my hubris? Tonight, it was Starbucks night. Of course, lately every night has been Starbucks night, so that doesn't really mean anything. So, I gathered up my notebook and iPod and headed up to the neighborhood 'bucks for some coffee and whatnot.
I parked my car--the RiflemanMobile--and sauntered inside. I ordered a grande drip and turned to find a place to sit and relax. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Starbucks was full of, not my arch nemesi emo kids, but evangelical Christians.
I don't have a problem with Christians. Or Christianity. I've been known to be one on occasion, afterall. But evangelical Christians are a different story. Something bothers me about people that go out of their way to force their beliefs on others, not unlike moveon.org.
I settled into one of the burgundy comfy chairs and started to make notes about a possible new novel when one of the ECs turned to me and said "Excuse me."
I pretended to ignore him. Or maybe I just ignored him, no pretense about it.
He persisted, "Excuse me..."
Thinking that maybe it might be something non-Messiah related, I decided to respond.
"Have you found Jesus?"
Now normally I would've gotten up right there and complained to the manager that crazy Jesus freaks were proselytizing in their fine establishment, but I was in the mood for some entertainment, so I replied, "I wasn't aware that he was missing."
Actually, no, that's not what I said. But I did think it. Instead, I said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not a Christian."
"What are you then?" asked the pimply-faced EC.
"Jewish, if you must know," professing be a member of a faith of which I am not a member. And something like this has gotten me in trouble before.
"Jewish? So you don't believe that Jesus is your savior?"
"Not really. I mean, I'm sure he was a fine person and all, but I just don't feel like he was the Son of God."
"How do you feel about your people killing the Messiah?"
"Well, if he wasn't the Messiah, then you can't say that we actually killed the Messiah. For all we know, we nailed a crazed carpenter with a god complex to a couple of tree limbs, preventing him from wielding his carpentry tools against a frightened populace. A hand sander can inflict a nasty wound, you know."
The pimply-faced EC was non-plussed.
"Would you be interested in learning more about Jesus and how he died for you? It might just save your life."
"Actually, I believe it's the power of love that might just save your life, at least according to Huey Lewis."
"But this is the most powerful love of all--Jesus' love." Actually, he said something like "Jesuseses love", but I got the gist of what he meant.
"I don't know. Marty McFly's love was pretty powerful. I gave him the courage to come back from 1955 to his girlfriend Elizabeth Shue. Well, technically, it was some other girl in the first movie, but Elizabeth Shue completed the trilogy, so she gets the credit in my mind."
"But Jesus love has the power to heal all illnesses," replied the EC.
"Hmmm...Really? So it could cure that shakey disease that Marty McFly has? Not even McFly's own love can do that. Unless, of course, he's immune to his own powers, kind of like a rattlesnake is immune to its own venom."
"It's very powerful. Jesus made the sightless see and the lame walk."
"So, He's got some cool superpowers, eh?"
"Well, they're not really superpowers, but if that what's you want to think in order to beli--"
"What's your favorite super hero?" I interjected, "Mine's probably Batman, though he's just a normal guy. No superpowers really. I guess if I had to choose someone with a real superpower, I'd have to go with Uri Geller. He's a Jew, you know. Actually, Jesus was a Jew, wasn't he?"
"Yes, but he rejected the Jewish establisment to found Christianity."
"Uri Geller's powers include bending spoons and stuff like that. Did Jesus ever bend spoons?"
"Not that was recorded in the Bible, but that's not..."
"Important?" I asked, "I don't know about that. Haven't you ever been to a restaurant and gotten one of those forks that are really flat and thus kind of awkward to eat with. Imagine if you could bend it back into shape with your mind...that'd be pretty damn handy."
The EC looked exasperated, "You know, I need...to...uhh...get going. Have...a...uhh...good evening."
He gathered up his stuff and left, leaving me to blog about my experience. Thank you Jesus for the content.