Communion Wine

I am a Christian, I won't hide that fact. Though whether or not I am a good example of one remains a debatable matter. But let's not digress this early in the story.

One of my very first part time jobs was at a local Christian book store. But having started college that very same year, you could imagine I did not really live as conservative as someone working with Bibles on a daily basis ought to be.

Now, one of the permanent employees there was one of those people that are the reason atheists think Christians are weird (and sometimes possibly scary, or insane). He would mind his own business, packing shelves, working the till, ordering new books, and then he would randomly, without prior warning or notice, bellow out loud PRAISE JESUS!! and then continue with whatever meager task he was busy with as if nothing has happened. Now, the store closed at nine in the evening, so you can imagine my experience when I started working there, it's late, the entire mall is empty, only me and that guy in the mall, sorting through the books in utter silence when all of a sudden I hear from behind me a mighty PRAISE JESUSSSSSSA!! If I ever wanted to know what cardiac arrest feels like, at that time I knew.

I like playing computer games. I'm a huge gamer. One day, Mr Permanent engaged in polite conversation with me, and as such, the matter of my hobbies came up. I told him I like playing games, and one game in particular that came up was Dota. After a stunned silence, he stammered: "But, doesn't it hurt you?" "Why would it hurt me?" "Because true children of the Lord feel physical pain when they are exposed to evils such as that!" When I told him no, I don't feel pain when I play computer games, and that I also believe that people who try to find evil in everything are paranoid, he - get this - made me sit in the corner and watch a religious video on his cellphone for 30 minutes.

At this point I was already busy dictating my resignation letter to myself in my head.

One day my friends decided to go out drinking. Being a student, I, of course, joined in on the festivities. I had to work the next day, but that didn't stop my friends from force feeding me vodka and brandy the whole night.

The next morning, I was in that state where you're not completely sure whether you're hung over, or still, in fact, drunk. When I go to work, one of the first tasks I had to do that day was to stock the shelves with new Bibles. I got the box of Bibles, and started placing them on the bottom shelf. As I bent over to place the first Bible in its place, I came to the conclusion: I am still drunk. How did I realize this? Because I stopped millimeters short of banging my head on the shelf out of pure drunken disorientation. With no small amount of effort to keep upright, the rest of the Bibles got on the shelf. I thought I was finished. But no. You're never finished when you're drunk. My next task was to hang up a new SALE sign in front of the store window. To do that I had to climb a ladder. Not only was I as steady on my feet as a newborn giraffe, I also have a strong fear of heights.

On that day, I prayed like I have never prayed before.

I have only worked there for about two months before getting a job at an IT shop. I happily signed my resignation letter and headed to my new work. There, for the first time in two months, I heard actual, real-life swearing. I heard people talk about the girls in the skimpy dresses walking by the shop. I heard people making dirty jokes. I was between my own kind...