An older couple walked into the bookstore, and I asked nicely if I could help them. He said that he’d ordered a book, it had come in, he wanted to pick it up. I found the book and handed it to him while punching in the numbers. As I reached for a bag, he flipped the book over to read the back.
I noticed the title…”SomethingIdon’tremember End Time Delusion”….about the time that he piped up and said toward his wife, “They got it wrong too, Mama. I thought for sure he had it right.”
He went on like this for a bit, then turned toward me.
Oh please, not me. Not me. I do not want to have the THE END IS NEAR conversation with this man.
“Do you know what I’m talking about?”
Um, of course not. You’re talking? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you 2 feet from my face.
I shook my head, then politely handed him his change and prayed to Dear God in Heaven above that he would shut up and move on.
“See here where it says, ‘Will there be a Rapture? Will there be seven years of tribulation?’ THAT’S all from nowhere. Some Pentecostal WOMAN preacher made that up in 1817. I Thessalonians tells us what the REAL church believed, and this is all wrong.”
Well, dearie me and bless my soul. Did you say a WOMAN preacher? How could anyone have taken that seriously? She must’ve been hard to hear, preaching while she wiped behinds and beat rugs and churned butter. And why were they listening anyway, when JESUS’ BEST FRIEND HIMSELF wasn’t born until THIS century and HERE HE IS IN MY BOOKSTORE. I must be doing something right.
Before he left, I fought the urge to ask him for St. Peter’s phone number. No, really, I did. I controlled myself. But BOY, it was hard.