Updated: Sep 7
So here I was, looking for a special kind of screwdriver and finding myself face-to-face with a god in the flesh. And all that comes out of my mouth is, “Excuse me, I need to screw.”
His eyes widen and I slap my hands over my mouth.
“I need to find a screwdriver,” I quickly qualify from behind my hands.
The god looks like he is trying to hide a wide smirk and only manages to downsize it to a small but all the more sexy one. It looks like it’s an insider joke he’s so amused about. I want the earth to open up and swallow me. But I stand transfixed. This man is nothing but a sight for sore eyes. And I can’t get past and the assistant I stopped to ask where to find the power screwdrivers told me to search in this aisle towards the end and look on the right. God is standing in my way. And I have become religious. Enlightened. Whatever I am, I stand there and can’t move, even if he did step aside.
“What kind of screwdriver do you need?” God asks me.
“A turbo power one,” I say. “And you stand in my way.”
I swear I didn’t mean to be rude. It came out all wrong. But he steps away, his face closing off.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, walks past me and disappears around the corner.
I am so contrite, I have tears welling up in my eyes. I hurt this man and he isn’t really God. He’s got feelings, too. And I just hurt those feelings. And he is definitely not used to someone doing that, so he most likely doesn’t have a coping mechanism and feels it all the more acutely and painfully than an ordinary mortal would. And before I know it, I am running after him.