“You mean to tell me that the Rolling Stones do pop music with a bluesy backbeat? I hadn’t listened to them since I was a nipper.”
The lead singer was dressed like Jagger, had a haircut like Jagger, and spoke with a horrible British accent. The rest of the band just looked embarrassed.
“I think I know enough. Thanks for meeting with me, guys.” Sometimes I really fucking hated musicians.
As they left the restaurant, I ordered more wine. A tall, skinny dude came over and sat across from me. “You’re Paul, right? The guy who says he’s interviewing God?”
“I’m Pastor Bob. I started up The People’s Holy Church of the Gospel of the Bible – out on Highway 5.”
Fuck. Bring back the Jagger wannabe. “Listen, Brother Bob…”
He interrupted. “PASTOR Bob.”
“PASTOR Bob. I hate to be rude – but only a little – I’m totally uninterested in your take on Jeff.”
“But aren’t you worried about The Rapture?”
Fuck. He’s one of those. I mean, there are people who still believe in The Rapture? Now how to phrase this delicately? “Fuck. You’re one of those? I mean, there are people who still believe in The Rapture?”
“Not as many as there used to be, Paul. Most of mankind has strayed. The acceptance of homosexuality and sex outside of marriage has turned a lot of souls to the devil.”
“Yeah, because that stuff can be fun. Evangelical horseshit, not so much. I just ordered a half-litre of wine, and I refuse to abandon it to the likes of you. So you can talk for the amount of time it takes me to finish it.”
Gotta be honest, I don’t really know what he said. I was too busy sucking back my wine as quickly as I could. Pastor Bob handed me his business card as I tried to stand up. “Please think about what I said. Together, we can change a lot of lives.”
I left his card on the table. “I’ve already memorized all your contact information. Photographic memory. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready to work with you.”
“I’ll be in touch when I’m ready to work with you” wasn’t entirely a lie. I was just pretty sure I didn’t want to work with the fucker. Too easy.