It was a normal Sunday morning. I had done my church shopping, and I was definitely looking forward to going this morning. "Athens Episcopal Church" it sounded legit enough. Alex told me to stop looking after the last debacle.
"Athens Holy Church of God in Christ" this sounded pretty legit as well. When we got there, it wasn't even a church, it was more like a concert hall. There was no preaching. It was all singing. And singing, and singing... Then, we tried to leave early, and every thing stopped. A woman stopped singing... mid-note! This fat (God forgive me),obnoxiously-dressed deacon stormed up to us and yelled down at us about how much we were disrupting the service and disrespecting God. I was standing there respectfully trying to explain myself, and Alex grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the church and ignored the deacon. Meanwhile, the whole church was yelling brimstone and fire at us. Sooooo embarrassing.
So this week, it's "Athens Episcopal Church" and I've finally convinced Alex to come with me. She didn't want to come. She gave me the whole speech about how she doesn't worship my God, and how she thinks I should go by myself, and why do I never go to the Hindu temple with her, and all sorts of foolishness. What ever.
"Let's go, Alex."
I gazed at myself in the mirror. I looked absolutely stunning. A light powdery blue halter-topped dress (it's always safe to wear a dress the first time at a new church. You never know their dress code) with a short white cardigan, baby blue flats, and silver accessories.
Alex enters, wearing a dark purple dress with gold accessories and plum flats. She looked nice, but not... perfect.
"Hmmm..." I said when she took the car keys off the hook.
"I'm not changing, Roxxie. I dressed like this on purpose. I don't want to go. But I will because we're friends, ok?"
"Yes, Alex. Come on. I don't want to be late for my first service."
"OK," she said politely, but with that face like she knew exactly
what was going to happen.
We exited the condo and hopped into my Barcelona red Corolla, that I
absolutely love. Alex, not so much. But, you know, I don't see her with
a car at all, so she has no talking power, whatsoever.
We drove in absolute silence. The most exciting thing about the whole
ride was almost being rear ended by a Hummer. When I was younger, there
was a small Hummer dealership in my neighborhood. The gleaming brand new
Hummers were always parked high on five foot tall hills of sand.
Eventually the dealership went out of business, as I had always supposed
it would, in a suburban area like that one. But who really even buys a
Hummer? They're kind of obnoxious. They use up alot of gas per mile, and
they only come in loud colors like banana yellow, and cherry red, and
lime green, and very, very, blue. Not to mention the fact that their
headlights are high beamers on top of the vehicle itself.
Anyway, a Hummer almost killed us on our way to church that Sunday
morning. I pulled into the parking lot of the church and instantly fell
in love with it. It was a lovely redbrick with Japanese cherry trees
planted out front. We parked the car and walked into the carpeted front
hallway air conditioning hit us on the way in.
"That's different from the last church. This one has central air."
Alex commented rudely.
"Hush, Alex!" I scolded.
There were a few ladies standing by a desk as we entered and the were
wearing really nice dresses. One was a nice tropical peach maxi dress
with a matching purse. The on ther two were almost identical
fancy-schmancy See, I knew there had to be a dress code here!
The service was very nice, in fact it reminded me of the church I
used to go to for choir. There was an introit song that the choir only
sang. Then an opening hymn: Hymn 625, followed by a song about Jesus,
then a Bible verse. Then, there was Hymn 745, then another Bible verse.
Then the Gospel, which is a Bible verse you stand up for, then, another
song, then the sermon. Then some praying, some more hymns, then it was
over.
After church, Alex and I mingled in the social hall and tried to make
friends. Noone really wanted to talk to us- they all seemed really
closely knit. They didn't make it obvious that they weren't talking to
us. It wasn't like they were shunning us or anything they all just
seemed to be in on it. Just a diverse group of people carrying on as if
we weren't really there. So, instead of forcing them to talk to us, we
walked over to the bulletin board to see what kind of events they had
planned(when I say "we" and "us," I really mean "me" and "I" because
Alex was sitting on a bench by the door waiting for me).
The bulletin board held all sorts of info about the churches upcoming
events, charities, fundraisers, rummage sales, prayer meetings and
protests... wait! Protests?!
So I slowed down and read that post on the bulletin board. It said:
Stop Abortion! Protect our babies!
Stop Birth Control! Protect our Streets!
Stop Gays! Obey God's commandments!
Get Gays off our streets!
Stop divorce! Stop having Affairs!
Get back to God before there's another flood!
-Mart Leadman, this parish's Head of Protests.
I called Alex over and showed her this bulletin. She began to laugh,
"The can't be serious about this protest, right?"
I nodded. After all, I knew these Episcopal churches. Either they
accepted it, or they were really against it.
"That's ridiculous!" she stated. Loudly. "People have the right to
believe what they want to believe!"
"Shhhh..." I hushed her down. "Don't be a hypocrite. These people
have the right to believe that others don't have the right to believe
what the want to believe." Thank God that I'm talking to Alex. If it
were someone else, they might not have understood a word of what I had
just said.
But she quieted down and responded, "I guess you're right. They have
the right to believe what they want. I kind of agree with the abortion
thing, but the other topics seem a little bit controversial for church,
that's all."
"Let's just go. I'm getting hungry."
"You like it? The church, I mean?"
"Nah, I'll do a little more shopping before I make anymore rash
decisions and commit myself to anything."
"Sounds good. Where do you want to go for lunch?"
"Butterfly Cafe." What could I say? That day, I felt like eating some
Crab Rangoon.
We walked down the hallway and out to the parking lot. I then
realized some thing startling. My car was the only "normal" car. All the
others were like, BMW, and Mercedes Benz, and Escalade, and Cadillac,
really expensive.
The "Father" had exclusive parking. There were three spots closer to
the church building with a sign across the wall in front of them that
read: "Father Bertram Parking Only."
In all three spots were gleaming dark blue Cadillacs. Their licence
plates read "BERT1", "BERT2", and "BERT3".
Alex was watching the cars with me. "Wow. At least now, you know
where this parish's offering money goes."
"Shuttup. How do you know he didn't come by those three cars
honestly?" I grabbed the door handle of my car, opened it, and hopped
in.
Alex did the same. "Because, Roxxie, he's the father of an Episcopal
Church. He doesn't get paid more than so. He gets paid through the
offerings of the congregation, and because he's in charge, he gets to
take as much as he wants."
I started the car, pondering what she was saying. That seemed to be
pretty true.
"That's why they have the kids working in the church. They serve God
for free. Free labor. Then he uses what he needs to pay for the bills at
church and keeps the rest for hisself."
I couldn't argue with that logic, so I pulled out of the church lot
and started off toward The Butterfly Inn, a Chinese motel which had a
Chinese restaurant next to it named The Butterfly Cafe. I've never
actually stayed at the inn, but Alex's boyfriend, Sherman, had. He rated
it a four-and-a-half star... For a motel. But then again, he is a
ragamuffin, after all. His apartment is just so... I guess... Crusty.
But that's another story for another time.
We pulled up in Butterfly's parking lot, next to a purple,
beatup-looking old jalopy. It looked like someone beat the make and
model right off of the registration papers.
The parking lot was filled with charcoal-colored, oil-stained gravel.
In between the gravel rocks grew little weeds, struggling to live amid
the oil stains and car smog. The sad part is, far away, this looks
really nice.
There was no litter or cigarette butts or anything. It was kind
of...pretty.
Inside the restaurant, we approached the counter and rang the little
bell. Seated on the counter were three fat buddah statues. Each one had
the same chinese character on it, which kind of led me to wonder what it
meant. But, as I was pondering this, the clerk came to take our order.
We ordered the usual: Two small General Tso's chicken, white rice, and
four crab rangoons.
We got our food and got back into the car. On the way home, Alex
brought up a touchy subject.
"So, instead of church shopping, why don't you do a little job
shopping?"
"I am, Alex, OK? It takes a little time. Just cut me some slack." I
turned right on the boulevard. Why does she always have to bring that up
whenever I'm having a good day?
"Trust me, I know, Roxxie. It took me a whole five days to find and
get my job." Sarcasm. I absolutely hate it. "Face it Roxxie, you're not
looking for a job, or you'd already have one. I don't know why- you have
a great résumé."
"It's not that, Alex. It's just that-"
"I know. You don't want to end up loving your job, because you'll
move on from it one day. But life's like a train route. It's full of
stops. You can't get off and stay at one stop too long, or you'll miss
the next train. And if you don't get off in the first place, you either
get arrested for being a stowaway, or you get kicked off."
"That's actually a really good analogy, Alex." I was surprised. "It's
not too ambiguous, either."
"Thanks. I heard it from my cousin, Kyle."
"Kyle? The one that's in jail? The one that's obsessed with trains?"
She cleared her throat as we pulled into our condo complex. "Wisdom
has no designated messenger. Anyway, here we are!"
I chuckled to my self. Alex is something else. "Fine, today, I'll do
some job shopping." I parked the car in the assigned lot.
"No, today, 'we'll' do some job shopping. But... For you."
Once inside, we got out our food and started eating at the kitchen
table. Alex got today's want-ad section of the newspaper and slapped it
down in front of us. Then she made some circles on it. "These are some
jobs that might be right for you, Roxxie."
I read the first one.
WANTED
An experience woman
capable of carrying me and
my husbands baby.
Call: (667)678-3212
I looked up at Alex. "This is an ad for a surrogate mother."
She peered closer. "Really? Wow. Sorry. I just saw 'experienced', so
I circled it. Well 'experience', anyway. Doesn't the newspaper spell
check these ads? There's no apostrophe in 'husband's', either."
"Besides," I added. "I'm not even, you know... 'experienced' that
way. Sooo, next."
WANTED
Part time evening and Saturday
babysitter for suburban
well-to-do family. Pays well.
Call: (667) 566-7886
"Well! This job's closer to it!" Alex commented.
I quickly glanced through the other jobs. Pool cleaner, septic
sanitary technician, junior golf caddy, and an artist's assistant. The
babysitting job was the best I had seen. I'm not exactly knocking those
other jobs, but babysitting is the one I think I'd be best at.
"I think so too. I would love-"
"Shhh!" Alex was already on the housephone, calling the number in the
newspaper.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I grabbed the phone, covered the
receiver, and whispered harshly, "Are you crazy? What are you doing?"
"I'm getting you a job!" she whispered back, just as harshly.
Grabbing the phone back from me, she continued her call. "Umm, hi! Yeah.
I'm calling about that "babysitter wanted" ad in the newspaper." There
was a pause as I sat back in the dining room chair, my nerves on end.
"Yeah. I'm interested- actually, my friend here is interested in the
position." Another pause. "No ma'am, she is over the age of thirteen.
She's a college student. She goes to UGA." The final pause. Alex
scrambled to get a pencil from her purse. She began jotting something
down on the side of the newspaper. "OK. Thanks. She'll be by tomorrow.
Mm-Hmm. Okay, bye!"
She hung up and looked at me like she had just given me one million
dollars. "I did it!"
"Alex," was all I could say.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked. "And why do you sound so dry?"
"No. What's wrong with you? I can't believe you just did that!" I
exclaimed hoarsely.
"You'd better believe it, Roxxie. I just did it." Then in a faux
British accent, "And I wrote down the address. You are to meet that
woman in regards to that job, and I shan't hear another word about it,
okay?"
I stared at her for a while. Then I thought to myself, Why are you so
mad? Your best friend just got you a job interview. Then, I just decided
to be thankful instead of ungrateful. "Okay. Give me that address."