The Tapeworm Gallery: Shop Talk

           Can you believe women today with all their tattoos? Women at work have them. And here you thought only females in prison had tats. I heard your coworker Kaylie has several large ones. Good thing you told her the man upstairs does not approve of defilement of one’s body that way. Even bubbly Jessica who also attends your church has a little dolphin on her wrist. #nominalchristian.    

            This is why you don’t like your daughters leaving the house outside of school attendance. If you could afford to home school them you would…and you wouldn’t have to deal with the office heathens. Your girls do stay out of trouble. Probably due to their fear of incarceration by the Sphincter Police. (Oh…that’s what they call you. #awkward.) What are you afraid of? That other Christians will discover that you let your girls watch TV and wear tank tops at home? Gotta keep an airtight lid on that evangelical box.

            But back to Jessica. Happy happy Jessica. So happy that she attends happy hour with your coworkers. (She doesn’t even drink.) She says she likes them and they make her laugh. Must be some social experiment for ministry. But your coworkers like her too. Well, anyone can gel with freethinking idolaters. You prefer to socialize with saved people. Good for you. You don’t want anyone to accuse you of being a (GASP) friend of sinners. You’ve taken the more difficult path of not engaging the irreligionist culture. Jessica may probe about their families and weekends. But she fails to point out how their lifestyle choices make tears fall from the heavens. Don’t fret. Jessica is only fake nice to them. Trying to earn the trust of the Muslims, liberals, and that weird girl (LGBXYZ or whatever they call themselves these days) by understanding their context is one thing. But she cannot possibly like those people.   

            Jessica always invites you to join. But why bother? They only talk about the latest sitcoms, romcoms, and hip hop—and it all gets your King James panties in a bunch. (To prevent future occurrences, you could just wear the pantheistic pagan thong that your coworkers wear. But as a daughter of the king, you know better. Never mind that your husband begs you to wear underthings in the black lace category.)

            With your high emotional intelligence and sensitivity towards people you fail to understand, why wouldn’t your coworkers adore you? I know you work hard to keep up your perpetually offended front. And by your Resting Lemon Face and Condescending Side Eye, they know it too. Besides, you should take offense to worldly carnalities like art, skinny jeans, and gluten.     

            With the sense of humor of a sea sponge, the world cannot expect you to get their jokes. You don’t laugh. Zero weirdness. Because laughter is for second grade boys and their fart jokes…and partakers of SNL. Don’t know how that show has remained on air four decades. Just vile, offensive, and juvenile—like the cast members and anyone who watches it. And I’d hate for you to reap the physiological and psychological benefits of a hearty chuckle. (#getyourflushot).

            Text message from your husband: He’s got to stay late at work the next few nights, so you and the girls will have to do dinner without him. Guess he’ll have to wait for the weekend for your charming pessimism about all the infidels at the office.   

            Bedtime. Did your morning devotional? Check. Prayed? Check. Read your Bible? Not yet. Busted. Do not let your head hit that pillow. Maintain that righteousness, girl. I’ll keep you up late so you can oversleep and miss your morning devotional tomorrow. Not that it makes a difference to him. But I’ll make you feel sick about it all day. Forcing yourself to attend the early service on Sunday will make up for your inadequacies, despite your exhaustion. Can’t ever miss church, even if your body screams for rest.

            Now close your eyes, open your Bible, and touch the page. I know you like to find your daily scripture readings that way. Makes you feel all spiritual. And isn’t that special? By the way, I’ve scotch-taped the pages of Galatians together. Not that you’ve noticed.

            Your party-pooping makes the world beg to come to church. And for that, I thank you.

Happy Vexation,
Tapeworm