Second Date Part Four

Jesus laughed when I mentioned the bible, "Oh come on Mary. You don't believe any of that nonsense do you?"
Gianno poured us some more champagne. Best waiter I've ever seen. He was right there with a refill when you took the last sip.
I said, "To be honest. I never really thought it was all literal. I kind of figured it was, you know, clever allegory."
Jesus drained his champagne glass, and if you've been counting it was his third in under an hour. Gianno refilled it. Jesus sipped, sniffed, sipped, and said, "I suppose it's clever enough. It takes alot of time and energy to make a god. It's like diamonds or oil. Difficult environmental conditions, extreme social pressure, awkward unachievable standards, a codex of rules and regulations that so very few can actually follow, self-castigation and self-torture, if enough people die for you, you can be a god."
"So, Jesus, are you saying that stuff about you in the bible isn't true?"
"True, not true..." Jesus sipped his champagne, "I wouldn't know. I wasn't actually 'born' until well after any actual person called Jesus Christ was long dead. The first thing I remember was waking up in Rome, in a pile of rotten vegetables beside the Pantheon in AD 213. I guess it took awhile for me to get strong enough to 'wake up', or...I don't know, animate? No that sounds like a Zombie. I assure you," Jesus giggled and held out his glass for the waiter to refill, "I am not a Zombie."
Jesus took a healthy swig of the champagne and said, "Gratzi," to the waiter.
I was stuffed to the gills.
A blue Ford pulled up in front of the park. The driver looked at our pavilion with complete confusion. He parked and stared at us.
Jesus saw this and said, "I think we'd better go Mary. I don't want to cause a scene or anything."
I nodded. There was so much I didn't understand.
Jesus waved his hands in the air like a raver trying to ward off the ill effects of bad ecstasy. The pavillion dissapeared, and the food and the chairs and the waiter. Everything but the champagne flutes in our hands. The weird thing is, one second I was sitting in a chair. The next I was standing in the park. That made me dizzy.
Jesus asked, "What would you like to do now Mary? Bowling, pool, Parcheesi, wild Nazi Stormtrooper sex?"
I blushed. He took my arm and led me away from the park, along the road by the boathouse, back toward the city.

Second Date Part Three

The food was delightful.
I crunched crispy bacon and licked the grease from my fingers. I had a Belgian waffle with rasberry jam and syrup. Jesus said, "There's something missing...wait." He sprayed whipped cream from his fingertip onto my waffle."
I know he was showing off, but I giggled, though I didn't want to encourage him too much. I guess if you're immortal and omnipotent everybody flatters you. I wanted to be different from all the other girls.
I licked raspberry jam from my thunb very slowly. Ooops.
I asked, "Jesus?"
He lit a cigarette, "Yeah, babe. Wait a sec'...We need some music."
Jesus clapped his hands together and Elvis Presley walked out of the woods carrying a microphone. He started singing as soon as he saw us and the sound carried beautifully and perfectly, "Wise men say...Only fools rush in..."
I felt my crotch warming up, "Jesus, what's your story anyway? I mean, aren't you supposed to be seated at the right hand of God and all?"
Jesus blew smoke rings.
Elvis sang, "As the river flows...Gently to the sea...darling so it goes..."
Jesus said, "Mary, it just didn't work out that way. I'm a very powerful figment of your imagination."
I spread cream cheese on my waffle. Gianno, the waiter brought me chocolate sauce.
"I don't understand."
"I am real because you believe in me. If you didn't I wouldn't even exist. You give me my breath and my sustenance. You nourish me by thinking about, with your prayers, with your-ahem-blood. And foreskins."
I just couldn't quite understand, "So the stuff in the bible? What about all that?"

I could hear Jesus before I could see him. He was giggling. Then I saw him. He was sitting on an industrial wire spool, the kind college kids use for coffee tables. He had a small table beside him, and there was a t.v. on it. The t.v. wasn't plugged in, but the sound and the picture were working fine. I heard George Jefferson say, "Forget about it Weezy. Lionel's going to have to go to Vietnam. Kill some Commies."
Obviously an episode I'd never seen before.
I saw Jesus was smoking a cigarette. He had a snifter in his hand. He looked up and saw me. He smiled so very sadly, "Hi Mary."
"Hi, Jesus."
Jesus looked at the t.v. and it shut off.
Then it dissapeared.
I couldn't help it. I said, "Wow."
Jesus smiled, his smile made me want to cry, "What would you like to do Mary?"
I sighed, "Well...I'd really like something to eat. Maybe we could start with that."
Jesus gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. I could smell Schnapps on his breath. He lifted the snifter to his mouth. He swallowed. He burped, "Sorry Mary. Got any Tums?"
I shook my head.
He shrugged. He said, "Want to take a little walk first, build up an appetite?"
I nodded. I was a bit dumbstruck. Being so close to him was intoxicating. He reeked of stale urine, sweat, liquor, cigarettes, but he smelled of good things too, Myrrh, Sage leaves buring and cinnamon toast.
Jesus took my arm. He took my arm and led me out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. We strolled by a gaggle of cigarette smokers on front of the Salvation Army. Another AA meeting. Jesus smiled at the smokers. A short woman with grey hair glared at him, "Jesus Christ. You got a lot of nerve to show yourself around here. Where's my rent money?"
Jesus was clearly flustered, "I told you I'd pay you on the third of the month when I get my social security check. Besides I moved out last month."
The woman spat as she shrieked, "You broke my bed! You fucked my dog! You stole my mother's engagement ring! You are a piece of shit, Jesus Christ."
Jesus smiled at her, sadly, "I'm absolutley imperfect. The way my father made me."
A big lady with yellow hair and an old man held the grey haired lady back. The blonde held her arms behind her back. The old man stood between her and Jesus. She spat. She moaned. She gurlged, "Wuzzzzazuzu...guuuuurghhuthug...I'm gonnamutherfuckinkillya! Jesussssss...You suck, you suck, you suck."
Jesus pulled at my wrist, "Come on Mary. She's troubled."
We walked down Waterman Street toward the water. I asked, "Was that lady your girlfriend?"
Jesus laughed, "I've never had a girlfriend. I can't really get into the ownership aspects of that kind of relationship."
"Did you really fuck her dog?"
"And lots of other things. And I really like her too. Liz Boorstein. Nice girl. When she's sober."
We walked down the street, toward the park, by the water, where the closeted gay guys hang around, and try to pick each other up.
It's my favorite park. There's a pond, and it's forested and hilly. There are paths and stone walls. There's an amazing view of the Providence river and East Providence.
We walked almost in silence. I was so high just from Jesus's proximity. I could feel the holy heat radiating from his body. Tendrils of his energy reached out and caressed my body. I could feel the ghost of his intent stroking my thighs.
I gasped, "Jesus. Are you feeling me up with ectoplasm?"
Jesus chuckled, "I've never heard it expressed that way before. But. There are more things in heaven and earth than all your philosophies can imagine, or something like that."
And, without any kind of prelude, Jesus grabbed me and kissed me on the mouth.
I slapped him.
He laughed, "You're strong."
He tried to kiss me again.
I slapped him again, harder, "Jesus, no. What the hell. Don't you understand anything about romance? Aren't you even going to talk to me? Try to get me interested?"
Jesus shrugged and took my arm again. He led me toward the park, "Sorry Mary. You see, I'm a celebrity. Usually, girls, and guys, just want to fuck me quickly, and get it over with. Nobody really wants to get to know me. I'm sure it's because they know if they did they'd be supremely dissapointed. People want to know me, or fuck me, just so they can tell everyone that they did."
I was flabbergasted, "But you're the son of God?"
"Didn't you know God is dead?"
I shook my head.
We kept walking. The dusk was starting to obscure the buildings of the city.
Jesus threw his empty snifter into the air. He pointed at it, as it flew, and it burst into flames. Then it became a flock of small yellow birds and flew away. I tried not to look impressed.
Jesus lit a cigarette and reached into his robe. He brought out another snifter, full of syrupy clear liquid. He took a swallow.
I said, "Jesus. Where are your manners? Don't you even care if I want a drink too?"
He said, "Shit. Sorry Mary. What do you like to drink?"
I said, "Well. I rarely drink. But what I really like is champagne. Or mimosas."
Jesus reached for my cleavage, and I lurched away. He pulled a champagne flute from between my breasts.
I said, "Ha ha. You think my tits are too big?"
Jesus shook his head.
I sipped. It was the best champagne I've ever had and I told him so.
He said, "Of course it is. It's Crystal. You said you were hungry. Want a picnic?"
I said, "I didn't bring anything. A blanket or anything."
He said, "Let me take care of that."
We stood beside the pond. The streetlight above us went on. Jesus waved his hands in the air and said, "Alakazam."
There was a flash of light. A huge gust of wind blew around us, tossing my hair and reaching up my skirt.
A pavillion had materialized in the clearing before the pond. There was a big steaming buffet table on the pavilion and a nice bar. A swarthy waiter in a tuxedo stood beside the buffet.
There was a small dinner table for two on the pavilion. There was a crisp white tablecloth, a votive candle, silverware and pink and white roses for a centerpiece. Jesus pulled out my chair for me and I sat. I guess he does know at least a little something about romance.
Jesus sat across from me, and the waiter brought us champagne. Jesus smiled at him and said, "Thanks Gianno."
The waiter chuckled, "Oh, so good to see you again Mr. Christ."
Jesus touched the wick of the candle with his fingertip and a tiny purple flame ignited there.
He drained his champagne flute and Gianno brought him a refill.
Jesus asked, "What's your favorite food Mary?"
I said, "Breakfast is my favorite meal. It's the most hopeful meal of the day. Before anything bad can happen and ruin my appetite. I love eggs benedict, and cheese omelettes, crepes, blintzes, pancakes, waffles. I especially love the breakfast meats. Sausage, bacon, ham..." Talking about breakfast made me hungrier and my stomach rumbled loud enough for Christ to hear. He drained his champagne flute. He grinned at me.
Gianno removed the lids from the warming trays on the buffet table to reveal every kind of breakfast delight I could imagine. Blintzes, crepes, Greek yogurt, granola, and honey, chocolate chip pancakes, with blueberry and rasberry flavored maple syrup. There was blood pudding, and rashers of bacon, thick and fatty.
I gushed, "Oh, Jesus. This is so beautiful. This is the best buffet I've ever seen."
He said, "Wait till you taste it." He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nose.

My second date with Jesus Christ (Part 1)

For my second date with Jesus Christ Almighty. I had my eyebrows threaded. And my hair done. And I lost a pound by taking a dump in the morning and not eating all day. Then I went to meet Jesus. I was so scared. I had so much to ask him. I wore my leather mini-skirt with the handcuff belt. I hoped Jesus would appreciate it.
I went to the Salvation Army. I walked past a gaggle of peole smoking at the front door. They were having an AA meeting inside.
I heard someone at the door whiste, at me. Must have been the handcuffs.
Went into the parking lot behind the Salvation Army. The asphalt was scarred and pocked. Had been paved in the fifties and never since, there were potholes so deep you could lose a baby in them.
I was so nervous. I had met him, and seen that he was a human man. It was all true. He is the son of God, born of man. He goes out of his way to be all human but his halo is pretty damn bright.
And I think he wants to get into my pants. That's kind of why I wore a skirt. In case something happens...we can do it anywhere. Well, he's homeless and I don't want to embarass him. What if he feels less manly if I invite him back to my place? Besides my brother would bother us anyway.

My second date with the lamb...oh...that sounds like bestiality or something

I was hot and bothered as soon as I met Jesus. On that first magical day I asked, "What's your number?"
He replied, "I live under bridges, in dumpsters, you think I have a phone?"
"Mobile phones are perfect for the homeless."
Jesus laughed softly, "Mary, you're nuts."
I tried not to look too too anxious when I said, "I was asking because...I hoped I could see you again."
Jesus Christ took a long swallow of Johnnie Walker Black straight out of the fifth. Men drinking out of pint bottles of liquor look sleazy and cheap, but a man drinking out of a fifth...gasp, thump thump, flutter...so very Bukowski.
And I have to report. Jesus is a gentleman. Of sorts. He offered me the fifth after he took a bracing swallow.
I reached for it and he burped, then smiled shly.
He wiped the mouth of the bottle on his sleeve. About as classy as a hobo can be, right? I mean he's really making an effort.
So I had a tiny sippy sip of that brackish grunge. I coughed and sputtered. Jesus patted me on the back. I was so dizzy.
I said, "Do you have plans tomorrow?"
Jesus said, "Mary. I hate everybody. Everybody dissapoints me. I feel sad and lonely all the time. And unbelievably, scathingly, insufferably bored. I would have killed myself a long time ago except for the fact that I'm fucking immortal."
I wanted to cry. "What kind of God would make you that way?"
Jesus snorted, "There is no God. Outside of your mind."
I was worried. What if he fell into a funk and hurt himself because of me? Could he hurt himself?
"Jesus. I like you. Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?"
"Sure babe. What time's lunch?"
"One?"
"Better make it two."
Jesus lit a cigarette.
I went to the beauty parlor. I had to have my hair done. And my eyebrows threaded. And I needed a Brazilian wax. And I needed new clothes. And I needed to call in sick to work.

Mary Bleb Tells All

I met Jeus Christ, the son of God, behind the Salvation Army. I was standing out front handing out pamphlets for a big protest my church friends were having for the movie, 'Angels and Demons.'
We were planning to get together at the Showcase Cinemas with some gasoline, skittles, strong tea in thermoses, and a straw man Margie Joan had made from her deceased husband's coverall's, a ski mask, some old boots, and a bale of hay.
I as trying to quit smoking and part of the process, for me, included only smoking when I was alone. I didn't inflict the smell, the soot, the ash, on anybody but myself. So I went behind the Salvation Army among the piles of donations and started puffing.
Jesus was a loud snort in a cardboard refrigerator box lying on the pavement. Then he crawled out and stretched. His hair was matted to his head and he smelled like puke but I knew he was Jesus right away. He was the same Anglo-saxon blonde haired, blue eyed angel that so many artists have idealized. I would have expected something more Semetic in real life.
Jesus slowly stretched out and started sniffing at me. He asked, "You got another cigarette?"
I gave Jesus a cigarette and he took it. I lit it. He said, "Thanks hon."
I asked, "Are you...I mean..."
He laughed, then he coughed. "Yep. That's me. You recognize me from my pictures?"
I nodded.
He laughed, then stared at me, hungry and serious, "Do I look sharp to you?"
"I'm not quite sure I understand."
Jesus sighed, "You probably would have noticed. I only live as long as people give me their psychic energy. As long as they're believing in me. I'm real."
I goggled at Jesus, "Now I'm quite sure I don't understand."
Jeus laughed, "You're cute. What's your name?"
I told him.
He frowned, "Really? Oh well, Mary, do you want to come to the beach with me?"
I said, "Sure, but my cars around the block."
Jesus reached out and grabbed my wrist.
I felt a grinding in the pit of my stomach. My head spun, my vision blurred, and I heard Jesus asking, "You o.k, Mary?"
I shook my head and found I was standing on a beach. It was scorching hot and a balmy breeze blew off the ocean. So many brown people scurried around on the beach. Jesus said, "Don't worry Mary. I'll take care of you." Then he reached into the pocket of his ratty brown blazer and brought out a pint of Allen's Peppermint Schnapps. He broke the seal on the little bottle and took a big swallow. Jesus shivered and went, "Brrrrr...HrrHrrHrrrrHrr..."
He offered me the little bottle and I refused. Jesus asked, "You married Mary?"
I could feel heat on my cheeks and neck. Oh. I was blushing on front of Jesus Christ. Then I got scared, "Jesus? Can you read my mind?"
"I can do anything I want babe. Speaking of which. You want a bathing suit?"
I said, "I don't see any shops around."
Jesus asked, "What's your favorite color?"
I lied, "Black." Because of course everybody knows if you have a fattish ass, and droppy tits, you want a black one-piece at the beach.
Jesus snapped his fingers and I felt a rush of slighter cooler air on my thighs and belly. I looked down and saw that I was wearing a crimson bikini. That was startling. But much more startling was the fact that I had somehow dropped the ugliest twenty pounds on my body. The cottage cheese on my thighs, the wiggly fat curtains on my upper arms, the bulge of my pot belly, all gone.
"Oh, Jesus."
"Yeah, no problem, babe, but hey, don't bother lying, red really does look good on you."
I began to blush all over again, "You can read my mind."
And at that moment, of course, I immediately wondered what Jesus's penis looked like. Jesus snickered and started whistling.
I said, "Jeez, Jesus, this isn't going to work. You have to promise not to read my mind."
Our Lord and Savior said, "Done."
I said, "Thanks for everything. I've been going to the gym alot lately, nothing seems to work any more...Since I hit fifty...Falling apart, y'know?"