We were at a truck stop in Phoenix, possibly one of the weirdest and wildest places I’ve been yet. The lot and area in the general vicinity was populated with a ton of vagrants, more people begging for money and rides than I’ve ever seen.
I usually stick really close to my husband when we’re out at night. He’s always very protective of me, and I’d like to think it’s because he’s a super sweet guy. But it’s probably really because he’s afraid I’ll wander off somewhere and get lost.
We needed ice for the cooler, and while my husband was getting the bag out of the machine, I turned around to admire a dog one of the people standing out front had. I was busy petting and cooing over the animal when the yelling started.
“I am the son of God!”
“There is no God! This planet is an experiment!”
The dog was no longer of any interest to me.
“I am the son of God!”
“You are from Alpha Centauri like the rest of us! We worship no God!”
My ears perked up. Aliens, dude.
“I am Jesus Christ!”
Holy crap. An alien and Jesus having an argument in front of the Flying J. I was fascinated. Jesus was accompanied by a female who, at the risk of being crude, had a Dolly-Parton-size chest and a cigarette firmly clamped between her lips.
“Show us your hands and feet!”
I wasn’t wild about seeing Jesus’ feet, as they were encased in socks and shoes that had clearly never seen a laundry pile.
“I am the son of God!’
OK Jesus, we get it. You’re the son of God. Dolly-with-a-cigarette reiterated his position on being Jesus by saying, “Yeah. He’s Jesus.” She didn’t sound completely convinced, and I wondered if she was as unwilling to look at Jesus’ feet as I was.
The Alpha Centaurian turned to walk away and I started to follow him. I had to know more about the experiment I was involved in. My husband grabbed me by the hand.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“He’s got to be heading for the spaceship. I want to see it.”
“He’s heading for the dumpster behind the restaurant, where he sleeps and huffs paint.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he was here last time I came through, having the same argument with the same guy.”
“That would be Jesus.”
“That would be no.”
“What if it is? What if Jesus is doing an episode of ‘Undercover Boss?’ I think we should give both of them a dollar, just to cover all our bases.”
“I think we should get in the truck and leave.”
“OK, but if I go straight to hell for not giving Jesus a dollar, it’s your fault.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
So I didn’t really almost get abducted, but my mortal soul may be in imminent danger, and that’s almost as bad as an anal probe. Almost.
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