Angie 3:16

Before I proceed with today's ruckus, let me first say that I have nothing against Christianity or organized religion in general. Heck, I don't even have any beef with Scientology. But me personally, I just don't believe that our universe came into existence because of a supposed Creator.

I'm an atheist, I swear to God.

That being said, some of my closest friends are in fact strong Christians, and I personally have a very profound respect for Christian values. So please forgive me when I poke fun at how creepy Christians can be.

My neighbor Angie and I were having lunch at a trendy Mexican restaurant, and as usual she dominated the conversation by telling me how she has just the BIGGEST crush on God. Normally I'm a sucker for religious conversation -- I loved all the late night dorm room philosophizing I did in college -- but there's something very suffocating about Angie's faith in a way that it makes anything she says sound like a biblical passage.

I asked her what on the menu looked good and Angie said, "Wherefore thou art great, O LORD God; for there is none like thee, neither is there any God beside thee, according to all that we have heard with our ears. 2 Samuel 7:22."

"Hmm..." I said. "How about we split an appetizer sampler? That sound good?"

And she closed her eyes gently and said, "The fruit of the Spirit is: love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law. Galatians 5:22,23!!!"

I tried to think back to the last time I saw Pulp Fiction and wondered if I could recite Ezekiel 25:17, but wisely decided against provoking her any further. "Knock it off, Angie," I demanded. "You're really scaring me."

Her eyes got large and she giggled and said, "Behold, God will not cast away a perfect man, neither will he help the evil doers: Till he fill thy mouth with laughing, and thy lips with rejoicing. Job 8:20,21, of course!"

Obviously, lunch ended as fast as it could, with me hauling down our waiter Antonio for the CHECK, PLEASE! But even when Antonio left us the bill with a smiley face and his name written on it, the "t" in his name started to look more and more like a cross to me.

Like this: †.

When Angie drove us home from the restaurant, we sat together in her car in silence. I felt like a real jerk for being so insensitive about the passion she has for her own faith. I mean, shit. This is a girl who in a couple weeks is going to Asia for a year to do missionary work and instead of admiring her like I should have, I was spooked out big time. After a few more minutes of awkwardness, she asked me if I wanted to go to church with her Sunday morning.

"Oh yeah, sure," I said. "Because I definitely need to repent for all of those quesadillas I ate earlier. Did you hear that fart? That's gluttony talkin' right there. Shit... one of the Seven Deadly. Not good. I might as well just say goodbye to my waistline AND eternal paradise in Heaven."

Between laughs she said, "So is that a no?"

"That's a maybe. I've still never been to church before, so it's intimidating for me, ya know."

Angie smiled a great big smile for me and said, "I'll pray for you tonight, Pete."

I smiled back and nodded...

And then suddenly, some teenaged punk in a souped-up Honda playing loud techno music decided to cut dangerously right in front of Angie, forcing her to slam onto her brakes. Huffing and puffing loudly, Angie promptly switched lanes and sped up her Buick so that she was driving right next to the Honda. The kid gave her a nasty look and Angie angrily rolled down her window, then pointed at the punk and yelled out, "DEMON! I SEE YOU, DEMON! YOU ARE NOT HIDING!"

Suffice it to say, I will be sleeping in till noon on Sunday morning.