Jesus Saves

I went into a Starbucks the other day whereupon I saw this waiting on the counter:

Ha ha! I thought. Jesus bought a Venti hot cappuccino! Did he get any fish loaves with that?

I was prepared to make a joke to the man who ordered it - “Goes well with wafers!” - when I turned around and there he was:

Jesus Christ.

He was actually there, wearing his white robe and tan sandals, with his long stringy hair and a peaceful smile upon his face.

Now I should tell you that I, like many people of late, have been dealing with some financial stresses. Some, let’s say, insecurities. It seems that a handful of people have all the money in the world, make all the rules and let us fight over the scraps.

So what happened next astounded me. Without my speaking a word of my worries, Jesus turned to me and said:

“I have heard the rich say that the secret is to stop ordering lattes every day. Stop ordering lattes, my son, and you will be rich.”

And with that, he turned and left.

Now of course I had heard that advice before, usually from rich people who don’t actually pay for their own coffee, so I never paid it much attention. But if Jesus Christ thought it was the right way to go, well, I decided to give it a shot, and cancelled my coffee order right then and there. I also cancelled my Bacon, Gouda and Egg Sandwich and my Birthday Cake Pop.

A few days later, I was rich.

I was rolling in it.

I couldn’t believe it.

For a few days, that sufficed. But after a while, I wanted to be even richer. I was at the grocery store, ready to check out, when it hit me:

If stopping buying coffee made me rich, imagine how rich I would be if I stopped buying milk and vegetables!

I turned on my heels, left without a word, and a few days later, I was even richer than I was before.

Soon, with no food or vitamins, my children developed rickets and scurvy. They went to our beloved dog for the unconditional love he provided them, but I’d eaten him that morning for breakfast as part of the aggressive financial plan Jesus and the rich had suggested.

They writhed in terrible pain. They developed scoliosis and bowed legs. Their gums bled. The insurance company rejected my claim, and the hospital said it would cost me every penny I had to treat them. I was taking them to the hospital when I realized how much I could save by letting them drop dead. Also, without a family, it would be easier to give up my apartment and live on the streets.

Thus relieved of my wasteful overhead, I found a lovely bit of gutter at the side of the road and settled down for the night. In the morning, when I awoke, Jesus was in the gutter beside me. He had an overstuffed shopping cart and a broken wheelie bag.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “You’re not the son of God. You’re just a homeless guy.”

Just then a woman came over and handed him a Venti hot cappuccino and a Bacon, Gouda and Egg Sandwich, and I realized we were sitting in front of the Starbucks.

He thanked her, and she gave him a dollar.

I was incensed.

“You’re homeless even though you don’t buy your own coffee?” I asked.

“Coffee isn’t why I’m homeless, asshole,” he said. “Don’t be stupid.”

“But you told me if I stopped ordering coffee I’d be rich!”

“No, I said the rich say that,” he replied. “The rich are full of shit.”

At that point, I decided to beat him to death and wipe that peaceful smile off his face. You might argue I shouldn’t have, I know, and perhaps you have a point - but I’ll just say that here in prison, I’m saving a fortune on rent and groceries, and there’s a free gym.

Plus I stole his egg sandwich and coffee, so that’s a breakfast I saved on, too!

The system works.

Yours in the Fetal Position,

S.