I overshot the turn by a bit, so I turned into a parking lot ahead of it. It was 6:25 at this point. Bible study starts at 7:00, but all the cool kids show up at 6:35-45, so I always turn up at 6:20. I was running late. However it happened, I thought I was going west, but I was going north.
I drove for over 20 minutes attempting to find the Fast Rite. I went 3 miles one direction, 3 miles back, 2 miles down this road, 2 miles back...on and on. I finally arrived at the Fast Rite at 6:55. I reached in my change pocket to get the change a mug of coffee costs. I opened the door, clicked the locks, then shut it within 2 seconds. I had to get that coffee fast so I could get to church!
I froze in place. Funny how I realized it subconsciously. I tried the door. It was locked. I tried, in a futile manner, to grip the keychain I clip onto my belt loop. No dice. Or in this case, no keys. I tried once more for good measure. Still no keys. I saw them hanging in the car...you can't get us...
I looked around cautiously. I had never stood outside of the Fast Rite very long; it provides such good service, it even provides convenience to robbers and carjackers. Call it a morbid level of accommodation if you will, but who else streamlines service for the robbing and carjacking industry?
I called my mom. "Momma!"
"Did you call the Raw Justice?" "Uhh, I'll try that!"
I hung up and called my pastor. Ring ring answering machine. "Hello, chances are you're going to Hell, please leave your name and number and I'll try to save you as soon as possible. *bleep*." Drat. I called my mom back and had her give me the Bruckner's number and the Hitman's number. I called the Hitman. Ring ring...ring ring...ring ring...call refused. Answering machine. I think I called back. I am unsure.
I then called the Bruckners. Nothing. I called my mom back.
I flipped the phone shut. I knew that, I said to myself. I then hatched a brilliant plan; I would purchase a slim jim from the Fast Rite! Seriously, if they have a baptismal mustard pool, they'll have slim jims. Two female employees were out front cleaning the sidewalk (God knows why they do this every half hour, but it sure is interesting- like trying to figure out why they bother to clean tar). I walked up to them. "Excuse me, ma'ams, but do you sell slim jims here?"
"Uh...yep." "Like, car-opening slim jims?" "Oh, no, lol! I thought you meant the jerky." "Oh...OK. I locked my keys in my car." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that...no, we don't carry those, but there have been a lot of police officers around lately, and they carry them. If you see one, flag him down." "OK, thanks," I said. I turned and walked back to the car sniffling.
I then gathered my courage for the trek to the church. I went into the Fast Rite and bought a liter of water, a machete, and a snake poison removal kit. Chuck Norris was once bit by a viper and after 5 days of excruciating pain, the viper died a horrible death...but if a viper bit me, it'd be the other way around. I set off to walking.
Several minutes into my trek, I came across some other fool walking. He had his hands in his pockets, and he seemed to be on a course to intercept me...that is, he was on the inside of the sidewalk, and so was I, so I moved to the outside, and he did too. So I moved back to the inside, preparing to take his brain off his shoulders, and luckily for him, he didn't follow to the inside. We passed each other, and I wondered if he walked like this every night.
After what seemed like hours (technology somehow confounds me; according to my phone, it had only been 4 minutes! It must have something to do with space-time and wormholes), I came to a slim jim wrapper. The jerky. On the ground. I am unsure if that's just pure irony, or not. After another few hours, I happened upon the church. Once more...the phone claimed it had only been another 3 minutes. Electrostaticmagneticphantasmic radioradar waves jamming my phone, again. I trudged up the stairs.
I entered the room. "Hey, Kev," they said. Wonder of wonders, they actually waited for me! I trudgingly took my seat. Kile II leaned over. "How you doing, Kev?" he asked. "Oh, I'm just fine!" I said. RJ did a short sermon, as it was now 7:25. It was over at 8:10. After, he said "You know, when you're having a bad day...you got a flat tire, or your mustache itches like crazy and everyone mistakes it for being donut crumbs stuck to your lip, or-"
"Or you lock your keys in your car," I said. "Lol, yeah," he said. "Oh...did you do that?" "YEAH, AND NO ONE ASKED ME IF I GOT BIT BY A VIPER!"
Silence.
"IT'S A POISONOUS SNAKE!"
Dead silence.
The Hitman asked why I didn't call. He answered his own question when he realized his phone had rung about an hour ago! He picked it up and looked intently at it, holding it 2-3 inches from his face. Pastor also picked up his phone. I said, "That's why I was trudging up the stairs." Kile II got a good laugh out of that. Something about my suffering makes him laugh...I think that's why the planet named after him is so hard to navigate.
Then my mom showed up! "I'M HERE TO EMBARRASS MY SON LOL" she said. "Whoa, it's the mom," pastor commented. He didn't expect that one! My dad drove my mom to the Pathfinder, and my mom drove that to church where I was.
After church, me, my mom, the Justice and the Hitman hung around in the parking lot. I had to act like I was real embarrassed by what my mom was saying. "Truth be told," she said, "He only started driving by himself the last few months he's been going to Bible study!"
Apparently, I've only been going to Bible study since September 5th, 2007. So tonight will be my 17th Bible study. I don't think I've missed one yet; maybe I have, but I don't remember. Anyone remember if I've missed a Bible study?
On and on. "He did this, he did that, he can't keep his room clean, he makes stupid decisions." RJ got a pad of paper out. This was the time that the Hitman explained peace to me; I posted about that here: Peace? Sign? Peace sign?
Before I knew it, the Justice stated that he had been reading both me AND my mom's blogs for a while! "Whoo, Kev has a blog...bookmark!" and "Ooh, Kev's mom has a blog, bookmark (click!)"...then he informed me that he had started a blog himself. He hasn't made any posts, though. Nevertheless, I faithfully check his blog daily. Me and my mom are going to comment on his dad's blog about him not posting, and get him in trouble.
We talked for about an hour. Pastor also shared how elders Grace believers celebrate Thanksgiving: by gambling around a table with dice (or, "devil cubes"). At least it isn't Russian roulette, right? Right.
As we were driving home (my mom managed to convince them that I locked my keys in the car on purpose so that I wouldn't have to drive! Shame! The shame!...bright...shining...shame!), my mom told me that they probably needed to get going during the time we were hanging out, and that I was "holding them up." She comes out of left field with this stuff.
"What do you mean?!" I asked. "Well, it just seemed like they wanted to go..." she offered. "Well yeah, but if they wanted to go, why didn't they, y'know...go?" "I don't know, maybe they were trying to be polite."
I recounted to her how the Hitman was walking to his car, then decided to come back. "It's not my fault I'm such an engaging communicationalist," I said. "Uh...Kev, I don't think that's a word." "Well, it applies to me." "...yeah, sure," she said.
"You don't want to become known as 'the freak who talks people to death,'" she blurted. "WHAT? I didn't do anything! If they had to go, why didn't they go! They had no reason to stay if they didn't want to! Who in their right mind would think they offended somebody by truthfully having to go?!"
"Oh...I don't know, forget I said anything."
If you don't understand "Oh...I don't know, forget I said anything," then read this post here talking of my social ineptitude. I guess I have to learn somehow, and this is my parent's preferred style of teaching. I sat there, confused. I guess that's the next life lesson. Now to have it translated by Monks in Kenya... recently, Kile II showed me a little trick of his. It's called put an extra key in your wallet, stupid.
I think it just may work!
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