“And then we came to an end, Lord—said our goodbyes and all, but something stayed with me after that dinner party. That’s why I wanted to talk with you.” Gladys pulled a cellophane-thin slice of pink ham from the plastic bag. The clove fragrance was exotic, the tangy flesh felt so good on her tongue. “When Tony said, ‘Dad’s sauce can penetrate any meat,’ I knew he meant the steak marinade, but still I feel violated when I think about it. I hope he meant marinade.” Gladys pulled at her pantyhose and sipped a few times from the wine glass. Kneeling in the “prayer closet” was becoming tedious.
“Jesus, Gladys, you floor me, sometimes. The things that put a bug up your ass!” The Lord pulled a slice of ham from the package. Gladys noticed the fine, black hairs on his bronze wrist.
“Wait! That’s ham. Is that okay for you, Lord?” Gladys’ brown wig quivered.
“Oh, my god. It’s fine.” The Lord gulped from a glass of red wine. “Salty.”
“So how does a lady refresh herself? How do I stop myself from feeling so nasty, so unclean, so slutty like that trash dump, Titsy?”
“Get a Scotch Spray at a spa.” The Lord glanced at his phone. “Hey, gotta go. Appointment.”
“Thanks, Lord. You’re a champ!”
***
Gladys waited in the white tile stall at the spa, anticipating a cleansing treatment. Scotch is high in alcohol content, so it must have a sanitizing component, she mused. A manful, gray-haired woman approached, holding a python-like hose. Her tennis shoes squeaked on the tile.
“Ready?” the attendant grinned. Gladys noted her name tag: Max.
A cascade of water pummeled Gladys’ soft body. Water?
The troll-like woman’s arms tensed as she leaned into the hose in order to keep herself steady, so strong was the force of the spray. Gladys feared her one-piece bathing suit would be washed from her body.
She recalled that dinner with Colonel Tony and his girlfriend, Margo, the Argentinian model and real-estate heiress. They were both recent converts, and although they were Bible-based Christians, they were still worldly in some areas. Tony smoked cigars and Margo wore very revealing (and very expensive) designer clothing. Gladys permitted the costliness of her garb to compensate for its seductive allure. It’s okay for her cleavage to spill forth from her top like tomatoes, exploding from a botulism-polluted can. It’s fine.
Gladys returned to the sensation of the spray. I feel fine, refreshed! “Thank you, Lord!’ Gladys chimed.
“What?” Max yelled. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Keep going.” Gladys pointed her thumbs up. Although this was not what she, herself, would have concocted for an ablution, it was quite effective.
Dear, *Disinfected Debutantes in the Lord’s Pearly Pageant, I have written this little vignette in third person for you, especially, so that you might be edified in circumstances such as these. Surely, you will disciple the newborn Christian, who so desperately needs your dignified example of right living, and surely, you must keep yourself unsullied in spite of their second-rate japes. Always remember to ask the Lord for his guidance, as he will give it you.
The King James Version of the Bible says, “If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent?”
Even though that hose was serpentine, indeed, it was just a hose. Praise the Lord!
*My sweet sister-in-Christ, Mrs. Natalie Bevere, gifted me with this wonderful title for you, my devoted disciples. May the Lord bless you, Natalie, and help you to return to lady-like conduct. You have been most common, of late, in your demeanor.
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