Pastors are the worst. I’m not saying all of them. I’m sure some of them are wonderful, honest creatures. I don’t know for sure because I’m a heathen who doesn’t attend church. But I’ve met two recently, and both were trying to get over on me and pulled the preacher card on me at work. Here’s the thing; I don’t care if you are a preacher. It’s not a real super power. You are serving wine from the bottle. You didn’t get the water from the tap and turn it into wine. So forgive my lack of enthusiasm when you tell me you have a church. I have a wine fridge. It’s kind of the same thing. Plus, you are using your tax free status to buy stuff for home. Do you really need tampons at church? Is that a service now a days? If so, thank you, Jesus! And I really love when they try to buy stuff that has a limit of one and then act like they didn’t know that was a real thing. “Yes, sir. One means single item.” And my personal favorite was the one who tried to pick up a $300 money gram with no ID.
“I left my wallet in the car that my wife is driving. Can you just go to my church website and see that it is me?”
“Sure if you can you ask Jesus to take the wheel and turn your wife’s car around. No? Well we are in quite a pickle aren’t we?”
And every single time I get one of these guys, I always wind up thinking, “And this is why I don’t go to church!”
RouletteWeekend 