Get Behind Me, Satan!

My little office is so cute, with lots of sunlight for the plants on the window sill. It also comes with a neighbor ,  a born-again Christian who spends a lot of work time counseling co-workers about the love of Jay-sus.

I'll be sitting at my desk, working on a report or something, and all of a sudden I will hear a shout of,  "Hallelujah! In the name of the Lord!" or "Get behind me, Satan!" I'll tell you what, it breaks up the day. 

Now some of you might be wondering why I don't report this to HR, as I'm sure there are a couple hundred work-place violations going on. My gut feeling tells me, however, that reporting her behavior will not look so good on my celestial score card. 

SCENE: Me, on a cloud, standing outside the pearly gates. 

ME: "Uh-uh. I think I died. Geez, I hope I was wearing clean underwear. Ohh, but this means that I don't have to pay that BG&E bill. Hahahahahha. I used $250.00 worth of electricity and they ain't getting a dime. Suck on that, BG&E!"

ST. PETER: (who, by the way, is not an old man with a beard. Actually, he looks a lot like Jon Hamm,  from Mad Men). " Hello, Stacie. Welcome to the Pearly Gates."

ME: "Oh, hi, St.  Peter. (I know its him, because he's wearing a name badge). Thanks, dude. So, can you open the Pearly Gates now? I am ready to go into heaven." 

ST. PETER: (chuckles) "Sure, most people are. Let me just check a few things in the Book of Life...... " 

VOICE FROM INSIDE THE PEARLY GATES: "Attention all heavenly beings. The all-you-want-to-eat ice cream bar is now open on the East side. Bring your silver spoons and help yourself. Frank Sinatra will be the entertainment, followed by the comic stylings of Mahatma Gandhi."

ME: "Whoa. All-you-can-eat ice cream bar? Sinatra? Gandhi?  Really, St. Peter, let's open these gates....um, is there a problem?"

ST. PETER: (Scrunching his brow together while reading the Book of Life. He is sooooo cute.) "I am just reading about that fight you had in the sixth grade."

ME: "Wow, I had forgotten about that. Yeah, Patty Plimpton. called me a fat-nose, so I punched her. Hey, I was just a kid. Can't we just let that one slide, St. Peter?"

ST. PETER: ..."and then there is that time when you were in college....."

ME: "Oh, shi...shoot. I forget about that...incident. Look, St. Peter, I was going through that experimental phase, that's all.  It only happened that one time, and I swear, we returned all the leather."

ST. PETER: "Well, I guess  you have been a pretty decent egg, so let's get you into heaven.....wait, what's this?  You reported a co-worker for spreading the word of God?" (Looks angry......not so cute anymore.) 

ME: "But..no, wait...it was a HIPPA violation.....(turns towards the Pearly Gates)... there is ice cream.....

(SUDDENLY I AM WHISKED AWAY IN A WHIRLWIND, FINALLY LANDING ON MY BUTT IN A MUDDY SWAMP.)

ME: "Where am I? This place smells like cow farts." (I look up to see Hitler, Mussolini, Bin-Laden, Ivan the Terrible, and Madlyn Murray- O'Hair surrounding me. ) 

IVAN THE TERRIBLE: 'Velcome to Hell." (He laughs demonically.) 

VOICE FROM  INSIDE THE SWAMP: "Attention, lost souls. Today's lunch is Shit on a Shingle. Eat it or spend the next 1,000 years in torture. Today's featured torture: Being Paris Hilton's bitch. And now, for the 15th consecutive year, let's listen to "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go," by Wham!  We're only playing this song 24/7 f or another 3500 years, so listen while you can."

Hitler, Mussolini, Bin-Laden, Ivan the Terrible, and Madlyn Murray-O'Hair walk away from me, laughing. Bin-Laden moons me. He has a fat, hairy ass.

ME: "Oh, why did I report that born-again Christian?" I scream inconsolably. Suddenly, I am lifted to my feet by Jack the Ripper. He starts to walk me to the Shit on the Shingle luncheon. 

JACK THE RIPPER: "Come, newbie. It's not so bad, once you get used to the place. Hey, ever wonder  what your liver looks like up-close?"

So, St. Peter, I promise  you, I am saying nothing to nobody. Give my best to Frank, and save some ice cream for me.