Scott wasn’t quite sure why he was walking down the street, but it seemed like the right thing to do. After all, there was a farmer’s market today, and that seemed like a good opportunity to spot girls. Not that he ever talked to them, seriously, who tries to pick up girls at a farmer’s market?
He walked down every street. He tried to stop at every booth. He felt bad when he stopped at booths he wasn’t going to buy anything from, especially when the booth-operators were minorities, because he had all that white-guilt. You know what I’m talking about.
So, after five hours of buying certain kinds of fruit and denying other kinds, listening to one street band and walking away from another, Scott entered a small alley that didn’t match the rest of the city’s layout. Almost like it was meant to be off-beat. He walked by a little sign in front of a sunk-in book-shop. He didn’t realize what the sign said until he had walked fifteen feet away, because he was thinking of other things, like girls he that had broken up with him, or why there were terrorists.
When he backed up and looked at the sign, it really sort of blew his mind.
“One Day Only: A Book Signing With God!”
He nervously looked inside the book-shop window. At first, it seemed like there was no one there. Then he noticed a strange-looking old man, sitting behind a desk, looking a little bored.
Scott tried to look away from the window, but it was too late. God had seen him.
I think we all know that it’s pretty tough to turn your back on God, so Scott went into the book-shop, and pretended to be interested in cook-books, which was ridiculous, because Scott had a completely emasculating belief that he would eventually wind up with some girl who automatically knew how to cook, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Don’t get me wrong, Scott felt bad about this, he knew that women had much more to offer in this world than simply cooking, but he still felt like he would luck out and meet a girl who loved to cook for him, and he would somehow be able to make up the difference, either with money or oral/sexual favors.
So, anyway, Scott sat down in a chair in front of God. God had a funny look on his face, which you really wouldn’t expect, but then again, it’s God, so who are you to question it?
“Are you here for my book?” asked God, more than a little eagerly.
“Oh, I didn’t know you wrote a book…” said an understandably nervous Scott. God held up a copy of the Holy Bible. Scott’s face immediately turned red. “Oh, well, yeah! Of course! I knew you wrote that one!” said Scott, as he fumbled with his collar.
“Stop, I got it. You don’t have to be weird with me. I know you haven’t read the Bible in a while. You aren’t the first one. You know, I never meant for it to be like this, Scott.”
“Really? I mean, you’re God, you can make it however you want, can’t you?”
“Well, yeah, that’s true, I could make everyone be crazy and shit, and bring me my slippers and just be totally crazy, but I wanted to see if people would like me for me. It’s stupid, really…”
“No, it isn’t! I understand… Well, sort of…”
“Here’s the deal. I would love, just love, for someone to talk to me straight up. Everyone’s all, ‘Oh, hey, sir, great haircut,’ or ‘Oh, hey, God, saw what you did with the dolphins… Terrific!’ Just once I want someone to be real with me. Ask me some real questions.”
“Okay… I guess I can do that. Here’s a question I’ve been wondering about for a while… Who is my soulmate?”
“You know, I set shit up so that everyone meets their soulmate. Everyone gets at least one chance…”
“Really?” Scott was concurrently surprised and optimistic.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Scott. You already met yours. She worked in a coffee shop. You made a joke about the Speed Racer movie with her, and wouldn’t you know it, she had seen it, and got your joke.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, that’s right. Fuck is right. Do you know how many people saw that movie and thought it was good? Maybe like 5 people in the whole world. I meant it to be a sign to you to ask her out. But, you blew it.”
“Oh, but I can still find her right, God?”
“Yeah… Well, the thing about that is, you get one chance. She’s actually married now.”
“Well, yeah but, I mean, she’s my soulmate, right God?”
“Yeah, she is… But she’s much happier with the other guy than she would be with you.”
Scott was a little thrown off.
“But, she’s my soulmate, right? I don’t understand… How could she be happy with someone else?”
God took a sip of his coffee. “You want to hear something crazy? I cannot function without my coffee. Seriously, I wake up and I’m like worthless. You know who makes a baller cup of coffee? Princess Di. I know, it’s a little soon, but seriously, she got a lot of training in entertaining world leaders, so… You can put two and two together. Anyway…”
“God, you never really answered my question. How is that my soulmate can be happy without me?”
“Scott. Check it out. I never, ever told anyone that their soulmate would make them happy…”
Scott reflected on this for a moment, and said, “I guess you’re right. Who ever promised that?”
God stood up and picked up his copy of the Bible. “That being said, she is still your soulmate. She lives in Malibu. In some weird apartment complex called Riverside Plantation. I think that’s a little racist, but hey, what do I know? I’m just God. Apartment 7. Good luck.”
“Wow, thanks God! Uh, can you autograph my copy of the Bible?”
“Scott, I’m omniscient. I know your thoughts. You don’t have to impress, me, man.” And God put some aviator sunglasses on, and walked out the door. Scott sat, dumbfounded for a little while, and then suddenly stood up and wandered around the shop for a while. He walked up to the cashier at the book-shop and put a copy of the Holy Bible down on her table.
“I’d like to purchase this Bible. You see, God has spoken to me.”
“That wasn’t God, that was Tim Sparkins, he comes here on Saturdays and pretends he’s God.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
“Nah, just playing, that really was God. He comes in here to tell people about their soulmates. I hope you find her.”
-Matt Sevcik
