PREMONITIONS FROM THE BIBLE BELT

Do you ever become strangely aware that the same thing happens to you over and over again? Not something big, like all the stupid occurrences in my life, but something subtle like always seeing a bird sitting on a red car, or the same song coming on every time you think of a specific person. There are moments that these seem very significant and bizarre to me. Why? I’m not sure, but I’m a huge believer in signs. Hell, I moved out here because of things I considered “signs.” I thought since everything dropped into my lap, and I ended up conversing with a very drunk man at the Crocodile during decision time that had just moved to Seattle from Greensboro, that I was supposed to move here. I tend to live my life like this, and sometimes mistakenly so.

Well, today I should have listened to some signs. I was at the post office and while waiting in line I heard one of the postmen say to his customer, “Have a blessed day!” I scrunched up my face and looked around at the others in line, as if to say, “Are you hearing this crap?” Who says that? A blessed day? What makes it blessed? Does just having a good day make it “blessed”? Well, if so, just say “Have a good day!” I’ve had this guy serve me before at the post office, and he’s never said this to ME? Can he smell the sin on me? Could he tell when I was smoking that I’d just had a cigarette, and had five drinks a few nights ago? Can he read my mind and see all the warped thoughts? Why isn’t he blessing me?

I haven’t had sex in almost two fucking years, which makes me near a fucking virgin! If someone deserves to have a blessed day, it’s me! Bless my vagina, you asshole! It needs divine intervention, okay? I just quit smoking again, bless me that I can stop eating two 100-calorie pack Chips Ahoy packets when I want to smoke! Why do I just get a nod or a “Have a nice day,” when that cranky bitch gets a blessed day? Granted, if he said that to me I might possibly respond, “Thank you so much! I was hoping for that since I know I’m going to burn in hell!” But still, why her and not me? Apparently, he needed me to hear it, but the premonition was not clear to him yet. It became clear to the next person.

My car was having starting issues and I had to take it to the dealership today. I always get nervous as a woman, taking my car to a shop since I have little knowledge as to what anything is and am convinced from watching too many Dateline-style shows, where women get scammed at the shop, that I will get screwed. So I drop off my car and see on the window next to the service counter, a sign that says “If it’s not right, don’t do it. If it’s not true, don’t say it.” I feel relief. Awwww. They won’t screw me over. They fix my car and my mom drops me off at the dealership to pick it up after work, I pay and go to leave. “Have a blessed day,” says the man at the counter. I stop in my tracks. “Uh, thank you.”

I go to my car and call my mom and start asking her what the hell is up with this, “Have a blessed day” shit. She says it’s just a Christian thing. I inform her I never heard it Washington. I personally am convinced it’s a Southern thing.

“Well the postman with the pretty eyes always says that.”

Damn it! He even blesses her, and she’s more perverse than me! I then start piecing it together, “You know, mom, there was that sign on the window, and then they wished me a ‘blessed day’….I betcha they stuck a damned Jesus fish on the back of my car! I bet I’m driving around with it right now!” Little did I know, the Saturn guy had the premonition. He knew what was about to happen.

I swung by the gym to work out, but all the New Year’s resolution people were overflowing out of the parking lot. I decided to go home and eat and then go. By the time I got home, I was famished! I needed something right then before I made my sandwich. I went to the pantry and got the remainder of the bag of Pirates Booty out. I laid on my bed snacking on it and got to the bottom. Now, the powdered cheese that sits at the bottom is just so good that I make sure I eat that too. I stuck my finger in the corner and scooped some out and ate it. Then I went to eat the next scoop and that’s when I saw it…black stuff. I looked closer and gagged. I still have no idea for sure what it is, but I’m pretty sure I either ate a bunch of mold, or mouse shit. THAT’S why I needed to have a blessed day! These people could tell I was going to die. They were trying to save my sorry-ass soul before I croaked from eating mouse feces! I brushed my teeth for ten minutes hoping that would save me, but my stomach wasn’t doing well. I feel really sick, and know it’s most likely my mind, but still this can’t be good for me.

Funny should I die from poop. I’ve laughed at it, talked it to death, and made it many a time. Now it might be the thing that kills me. And should you ever wonder what’s at the bottom of the treasure chest…or the Pirate’s Booty, as their treasure is known…I can answer that question for you now. It’s all shit.