The Preacher and the Tired Waitress

A friend recently visited me from the west coast, and as I was meeting her boyfriend for the first time, she divulged to him that her long time friend (me) has a twisted and bitterly sarcastic humor she adores.  At least in my narcissistic universe that's how I think she feels about me.  She recants this story, which quite honestly I had forgotten, about a time when I expressed my well known quick nasty wit and thrust its sleep deprivation induced venom upon an innocent preacher one morning.  Luckily the guy had a GREAT sense of humor, and we both had a good laugh at the end of it.  I guarantee it was the most interesting door to door experience he had that morning.

Once upon a time I was a waitress.  This one night I stayed way past my grumpy time working, then didn't get home until the wee hours of the morning.  In that type of working situation, you're not an early riser.  Let's just say that awakening a hibernating Kodiak bear would have been more pleasant than waking me from my slumber given the circumstances.  Groggy eyed Abbie hears a "Knock, Knock", at the door at 7:30 AM.  I ask myself, Who the h*** is knocking at my door at this ungodly hour?  Opening the door, I see this lovely man dressed in spiritual garb and offering a welcome to his new church down the road.  Nice man, seems sweet.  Too bad he knocked on my door, poor guy doesn't know what verbal poo is about to hit him in the jugular.  Understand that I have nothing against spirituality, people of god, or those who want to work as their messengers.  I just like sleep.  A lot.

Preacher: "Hi, I'm (blah blah blah) and I'm looking for people who are interested in joining my church down the road.  We just opened our doors, and I'm hoping we can interest you in stopping by to see our service.  (I'm nodding, and not really paying attention.)  Let me ask you a question, If you were to walk out your door today, and get hit by a bus, do you think you would go to heaven or to hell?"

Now, I'm one for a good spiritual debate just as anyone else, but on 3 hours of sleep there is no way MY brain is able to function on any level of social appropriateness.  I'm not even able to do that on a full nights sleep... on a good day... when the sun is shining... and even if  I had all those teleprompters in front of me telling me the right things to say like the President.  This being said from a descendant of catholic nuns no less.  I think I mentioned before I have issues... but, I digress... onward with the true story.

Abbie: "Oh, Pssht!  That's an easy question... (his associate scoffs and replies under his breath, 'Easy?') HEAVEN.  I'm definitely going to Heaven. 

Preacher: "Well! (LAUGHING) You certainly seem convinced of this answer, are you sure?  If you stand firm with your reply, why, may I ask, do you feel so strongly about that?"

Abbie: "Well, you see preacher, I've already BEEN to Hell.  So if I *DON'T* go to Heaven, there IS no God."  *Insert-Cheshire-Cat grin-and-sleepy-rub-of-eyes*

At this point he breaks out into laughter, and so does his assistant.  They both agreed that was the best answer they had heard in their entire career of soliciting followers.  We shook hands and he gave me a literature packet so that I could decide later if I wanted to follow his church to make him smile more.  I thought since I subjected him enough to my torture, I would let him go on his way, making others wonder about their own mortality and how quickly their life would end by being hit with a bus at 7:30 AM. 

True story.

Thanks for nut'in

Thank you, brown window spiders, for coming to my property, and making me afraid of death inducing bites on my butt every time I sit on my patio furniture. I love extremely toxic arachnid bites.

Thank you, dirty diarrhea diaper for exploding at a Japanese steakhouse restaurant, all over the car seat, my daughters last clean set of clothes and finally, my shirt.  That experience just makes me want to go out to dinner EVERY night.

Thank you city property tax employee, for making our conversation as pleasant as a colonoscopy with massive hemorrhoids.  You're demeanor was as warm as I imagine an icicle impaling my heart would feel.

Thank you, new postal employee who's filling in temporarily for the vacationing one, for returning my water bill back to the sender as undeliverable "not a legitimate address" because you can't recognize a new house on an old lot and deliver my mail... Ever.  I like teetering on the edge of knowing if my water will shut off... that's so exciting!

Thank you, migraines, for crippling me and reducing me to my knees every time a ray of sunshine breaks through the window or a sound enters my ears. Being coherent and able, and not bed ridden to a dark soundless cave is SO overrated.

Thank you, toddler, for not only slapping me, ripping hair by the root from my temples and kicking my face, but also for throwing a meltdown fit for a solid hour whilst screaming at decibels that would break glass directly in my ear - all the while I contemplate knocking myself out to end the pain of this experience. Childhood is so magical and beautiful.

Thank you, Diego, for being one of several preschool aged shows that literally screams at me to pet a frigging turtle (rendering it impossible to nap) while I am trying to distract my toddler for just an extra twenty minutes so that I may sleep for once in this god forsaken role of constant sleep deprivation.  I love your program, oh, and also want to see you choke on an Ostrich egg as soon as possible.

Thank you, toothless, creepy, gas station man, for smiling at me in a way that made me want to hide every pair of underwear and shoes I own for fear that you may follow me home and sniff or steal all of them.  Thats my favorite emotion, really.

Thank you, stalker, for making me change my number, remove myself from all social media, move from my home and hide behind a fake name for my protection.  I just adore living in fear of being discovered by a psychopath.  

Thank you, crossing guard, for not having any resemblance of a filter, and insulting everyone who walks past you on their way to dropping off their kids at school.  We definitely don't have enough judgement and frustration from our children in response to just GOING to school, your added commentary just makes the morning all the more FANTASTICALLY awful.