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Last week at the mall I ran into God, in the form of a very attractive young Asian woman. I never believed in God before, but She told me She would grant my innermost yearning, my heart’s greatest wish, if in return I would become a member of the church and dedicate my life to Her. Since every good skeptic needs some proof, I asked how I could be sure she’d follow through on her promise. At that moment an old man came shuffling by and she turned his walking cane into a snake right before my very eyes! He reportedly suffered a heart attack and later died at St. John’s Hospital. But the feat amazed me. I believed. I weighed the consequences carefully. If I agreed, it would probably mean attending church regularly, giving a 10% tithe, attempting to convert everyone I met or at least getting them to come to my bible study group, random acts of altruism and purposeful good deeds... The list went on and on. After a few moments of deep soul searching, I consented. I thought about all the things my heart desired. Fame, a mind of genius, fast cars, power, ever-lasting life, a flare for art, an on-call masseusse... Money would make a lot of these things possible. I was almost convinced. But as I studied her flawless face and graceful body, and thought about how unhappy I was with my appearance, I knew what I most wanted was the one thing money could only buy you for so long... youthful beauty. “Make me the ideal of beauty. Drop 15 years and 30 pounds off my appearance. I want more muscle tone, a straighter nose, flawless skin, blue eyes, and I want to be taller. And I want to look this way until the day I die.” She qualified “ideal” as “American ideal,” and replied, “Done! Now, I just need you to fill out some paperwork...” At this She pulled out from somewhere in Her sleeve a thick packet of paper, legal documents and contracts with large X’s next to signature lines. “Wait a minute,” I said. Something seemed suspicious. “Why does God need to bribe people into doing Her bidding these days? Isn’t that usually the modus operandi of that other guy?” She chuckled and tried to explain, “People don’t want to do my work for its own sake anymore. I’ve got to recruit. Most people are too wrapped up in selfishness and greed, power, and,” she beamed at me, “vanity. I’m just trying to keep up with the times. That’s why I don’t appear as an old man anymore. It was comforting for a time, but people are tired of that trite image. They seem to be equally tired of angels in flowing robes, the face of Jesus on billboards, Mother Mary in the sky.” She seemed a little bitter when she added, “They never get tired of that milk-drinking cow statue, though, do they?” I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. She continued, “But the point is that I have to stay young and hip in America, because that’s what your culture values.” This hot little Asian woman told me she usually appears to nonbelievers in the visage of someone they would want to look like, which I thought was a strange thing to say since I’m a middle-aged white male. Not that she was entirely off on that assessment. So I signed the mound of paperwork right there, with a big hypodermic pen. And then from the other sleeve she pulled out another stack equal in mass and pronounced, “Here’s your copy. Read everything over carefully, it outlines everything you’re expected to do to keep up your end of the bargain. When you wake up, you’ll see that I will have fulfilled my promise.” Sure enough, when I woke up the next morning, I was stunningly handsome. I stood in the front of the mirror for hours, flexing and inspecting my new body. My wife flipped out and kept screaming, “Where’s my husband? What have you done with my husband?” But I was thinking of trading her in for a newer model anyway. God Damn, I was good looking. And then I apologized for cursing. I was pleased with the deal I had made and thought I had made the right choice for certain. Then I started reading the terms of the contract. In addition to attending church regularly, giving the tithe, volunteering time to local charities, following the ten commandments, converting the heathens, and generally striving to be a good Christian, I was now forbidden to drink, smoke, gamble, have sex outside my marriage, eat pork or shellfish, or do anything at all on Saturdays. I nearly fainted as I realized I had just made the biggest mistake of my life... I had sold my soul to the god of the Seventh Day Adventists!! Copyright 3/99 Jennifer Chung All rights reserved. I don't have a God complex. Really. |