Jesus decides to materialize at Starbuck on 30 E. Hubbard Ave. in downtown Chicago today. The son of our lord loves his mediocre espresso. When he visits the general public, Jesus likes to dress down. He doesn’t like to draw attention to himself. No need for fancy white robes.
Weekday afternoons at this location means long lines. Jesus waits patiently because that’s what the King of Kings is supposed to do. Fifteen minutes passes and he’s only about 50 percent closer than when he started. A man on a touchscreen cellular telephone pushes his way through the line and cut right in front of Jesus.
“Be patient, be patient,” Jesus says to himself. “A humble son of God would not make a big scene.”
Jesus taps the man on the shoulder.
“Um, excuse me sir, but I think you cut in front of me.
The man ignores Jesus and continues his conversation.
“…you know, FUCK Steve. If he doesn’t want to be a part of this deal, then he can go jump off the bridge as far as I’m concerned.”
Jesus taps his sandal on the ground impatiently. He crosses his arms. One customer files out holding a sugary blended frozen fake coffee drink.
“Shit, is EVERYBODY ordering frappachino? I’d like to not be here all day,” Jesus thinks to himself.
The man who cut him off ends his phone call. Jesus taps him on the shoulder again. With a patience that made him world renowned for his patience, he finally gets the man’s attention.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Hey buddy, don’t I know you from somewhere?” the man asks.
“No, sir, I think you’re mistaken…”
“Yeah, no, I think I’ve seen your picture somewhere.”
“Sir, I don’t think we’ve met. Listen, I’ve been standing in this life for 15 minutes and…”
“Oh, geez, now I remember. I was at a wedding last week at Old Saint Patricks Churck over there on Desplaines and Adams. They have your picture up all over that place.”
“Yeah, you work there or own the place or something?”
“Well, you could say that in some respects I…”
“Listen, I want to commend you on a lovely building. The service was great. I think I drank all of the wine. They kept running out. But you know how that goes.”
The man’s phone rings, but he ignores the call.
“Look sir, I don’t want to get into a whole big thing with you here, but you kind of cut in front of me here in the line,” Jesus says.
“Excuse me?” the man says, his voice rising as if to reveal that he was offended at Jesus’ truth. “Listen you skinny motherfucker. I’ll punch you so hard you’ll fly out of those dusty sandals…”
Jesus is getting mad.
“…I have been working my ass off all day and you’re in here just lounging around in your sandals like you’re some hot shot who doesn’t have to go to work every day. Who in the fuck do you think your are?”
“I AM YOUR LORD. YOU DO REALIZE I’M GOING TO DIE FOR YOU RIGHT?” Jesus waves his hand in front of the man’s face. The man disappears.
And that’s how Jesus wins every argument, but every time he does, he can’t afford making a scene. That’s why Jesus usually stays home.