defectivejunk

So, last week the rapture happened and everybody died.

They made us get in two lines. I was in the right one. These hoards of people seemed to be stretching on for eternity. But obviously that's hyperbole, because there haven't been an infinite number of people who have lived.

Everyone refused to acknowledge the situation. I was the only one seemingly concerned about where we were going, and what exactly was happening to us. Most everyone was making small talk, mostly about how cold the weather had been where they lived before they died. A few people were yelling about whether invading Iraq had been a good idea or not. I think I heard some Germans talking about sausages. But whatever, I didn't speak German. They could have been discussing bathroom porn.

I had been waiting for two or three hours. No one had said a word to me. I seemed to be the only person preoccupied with my surroundings. Except for a middle aged man in the other line. He was wearing a brown tartan jacket with those elbow pad things, and a grey hat that didn't match anything but his beard. He had crazy eyes, and he was using them to look around at everyone nervously, like he was sure he was going to hell. Occasionally he would look in my direction. I just pretended not to notice.

Suddenly, we had passed through a gate and I saw a guy in a white robe to our left. He was carrying a clipboard, and every ten seconds or so he would look at it, and tap on the side of it with a pen. But he wasn't making any marks.

So I decided to ask him what the deal was.

"Hey, are you like, St. Peter?"

"No, St. Peter is fictional. My name is Harvey."

"So Harvey .. what line are we in here? You uh, you get my drift?"

"Oh. OH. Right. Yeah, there's just two lines. It's just to make the lines shorter. You're all getting into heaven."

Suddenly everyone in both lines stopped talking, looked at us, and let out big sighs of disappointment. There were a few sighs of relief, but mostly everyone was upset that everyone else got to go on in. They wanted their line to be the good line. So then they just resuming talking about their weather.

"Ok Harvster. Can you um, explain life or the universe or whatever?"

"Oh. No. I'm just a temp. They don't tell you that stuff until you sign a non-disclosure and non-compete agreement."

"...Oh. So you're just checking the list and crossing people off, or what?"

"Well, I think I was supposed to be. But all they gave me was this time table of activities. They forgot to give me a copy of the list. They always do shit like that man, they just assume I know all these bullshit rules like it's supposed to just pop in my head by osmosis or whatever? Shit. I don't even think this thing is right. It says we're having tacos for lunch today at noon, but Wednesday is always meatloaf day. And you know, they always do this crap to me. One time I was supposed to meet this guy at the main gate right? But it turns out he got sent around back and got lost somewhere. Then that stupid ass Ken sent him to gate 5. And everybody knows gate 5 just leads you back to the middle of the forest in Indonesia. What a retard. Seriously, I don't know how he keeps his job sometimes. Like, the other day, he"

The line wasn't moving. And Harvey the Heaven temp was prattling about his coworkers for what seemed an eternity. The bearded man in the other line had removed his hat and he was brushing his hair back with his hands. I had to wonder who he was primping himself for. Maybe a long lost relative. Maybe his wife who died a few years ago, and left him to live in a big house by myself.

Maybe he just thought he needed a haircut.

Suddenly the other line took off. And we were left standing there. For hours? Minutes? It's hard to say. I mean, it's easy to say "minutes", but it's probably not true.

"...And that's why they won't even let me take a break without telling the boss first. I mean seriously, I know I'm just from an agency but I can go to the bathroom by myself.."

"Yeah great. Anyway. Why isn't this line moving? Dude, don't you at least know what this place is like? Tell me. I mean, was any religion right? Did we all lead good lives? Or was it meaningless?"

"Oh that. Turns out both the atheists and the Christians were right. Jesus is the son of God, but God is a flying spaghetti monster. And I totally met them the other day. Nice enough guys I guess. But then I went out for Italian at lunch right, cause I got this craving? Well you know the good place is allll the way across town and I was five minutes late and of course that bitch Ken totally told on me and they docked me five minutes! I'm so sick of that guy, really"

So, what he was telling me? Humanity was made in the image of pasta. I guess I can live with that. Or, exist with that, since we're all dead.

I got to the front of the line after .. I'm not sure how long. Time was no longer of the essence. Anyway, I got to the front of the line and it turned out St. Peter was there after all. And just him. He was just alternating lines - at least, he was trying to alternate lines - and letting people in. After they filled out the proper W2 forms and contracts, of course.

There was a fifty foot tall sign radiating white light. It said "WELCOME TO HEAVEN. PLEASE MERGE."

But all the people in the left line just kept cutting in front of us.

No one would speak up. Everyone knew it was wrong. But they just didn't want to get involved.

They just kept talking about how cold it had been.

Labels: A Book for Oprah's Book Club