They Don't Heckle You At Church

Someone once told me I ought to be a stand-up comedian. Though I have a problem with that--and it's a pretty big stinkin' problem.

I get super nervous when speaking in front of people. When I made an announcement in our tiny church, my hands rapidly shook, I spoke at the speed of light and I could feel my face turning beet red. I didn't see a few people being quietly attentive. I saw a sea of eyeballs, thousands upon thousands of eyeballs all fixated on little 'ol me.

Someone suggested that church is the perfect place to practice. I suppose that's true. At least hey don't heckle me at church. Except when I taught elementary Sunday School, but that was a tough crowd.

Sure I'd love to be a comic but I hate to travel. And I'm better on the spot, a skill I desperately wish I had in high school. Cinnamon (yes her real name) went to the 7-11 next door to our place of work and Patrick The Hound Dog says to her, "You are the light of my day!"

"What do you even say to that?" she asks.
"I woulda said, 'Well then, I can't wait for night time!'" I laughed.

Cinnamon loved it so much she demanded that I go with her every time she went to 7-11 on the days Patrick The Hound Dog was working.

I agreed but only after having her sign my standard contract of $15 an hour for my services. What? Hey, it's better than getting paid scale.