SUNDAY MEETING

Not too long ago GOD popped into our discussion group and I asked him a simple question, “Are you a generic GOD or do you have a brand name?” No answer and then, suddenly, yesterday, the red phone rang.  The sound of the voice on the other end of the line was bemusing, if not a little off-putting. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman and the accent was very odd. The message  was brief, “GOD will see you tomorrow morning. Yes or no?”

“Yes or no I’ll be here? Or yes or no HE’ll be here?  I assume HE is a HE.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yeah, I guess,”  I answered but the line cut off before the ‘I guess’. As much in the dark as I was to begin with, I decided to prepare for the best. I bought a couple of bottles of nice Chardonnay.  A really pretty platter of prepared pupus I found at Costco. Some cookies-I’m a cookie monster- and fretted over what to wear. I spent almost the entire night cleaning house. Made sure there were no water spots on the wine glasses, the right white wine glasses, and filled every vase I had with fresh blossoms and greens. It’s hard to do the white glove thing in my jungle house but I figured GOD wouldn’t mind. HE’D been born in a stable, hadn’t HE? Was HE a HE?  To think I’d have the answers soon sent my heart thumping. I brushed Ari Olympic horse show splendid. His stall was sniffy fresh and the one alongside it, too.  I mean if GOD showed up riding on a white horse I’d be prepared. I’d have some carrots ready, two scrubbed stainless steel buckets filled with alfalfa cubes and fresh water. Had a long talk with Brooks, who is very protective, asked Duke please not to swear and figured the cats would either choose to be there or not. I don’t think the chickens understood a word I said. They love to crowd around when company comes doing what chickens do best, cluck and poop. I even washed the red gates and swept the driveway! Decided not to dress up but pulled out a really neat  sweet-smelling pair of velvety blue sweats. I tried to catch some sleep before the sun came up figuring morning- even in God’s time- was sometime between when the sun rose on planet earth and when it reached the meridian.

I won’t say I paced the floor but it was difficult sitting still. I was up and down, checking this and dusting that. Fluffing pillows. You know what it’s like when VIPs come calling.

The long black limousine appeared at the gates at three minutes to 12:00.  A driver in military uniform- he looked like George C. Scott playing Patton-opened the gates without asking. Climbing back in the driver’s seat, he punched the nose of the big black beast in as far as it would go. I grabbed my blue hat and blue sun glasses and ran to greet HIM. Patton opened the passenger door a crack and saluted smartly, then- oh, my GOD- Dick Cheney  or a very remarkable look-alike glared beady-eyed at me from the back seat. “Got your message. You got MINE?” Patton slapped me with his gloved hand and slammed the door…

….when I woke from that nightmare I was sweating like a horse.

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