she had pink hair and was sitting on a bench in the driveway of a cheap motel in bumfuck
waiting patiently for me to drive her to a wedding 40 minutes away for a cholo ceremony of two people she met at last year’s burning man.
she was 60, sweet, and answered my questions with a yes sir at the end.
ever do shrooms at The Burn?
yes sir.
ever drop acid?
yes sir.
ever eat too much ecstasy and nearly die in a hot tub in a giant suite in vegas in front of two smoking hot naked ravers who laughed at your teeny schween before they revived your lifeless soul?
sir?
her name was virginia. she lived in a shoe. looked fantastic for her age, had a soft, sweet, sing-song voice, was humble, a tad wacky, but only in the best way. tattoos and stevie nicks garb, wrinkles, but earned.
smelled of lavender and energized crystals shaped like a cross.
she would quickly realize i knew a few things about the Bible and she was free to testify without judgement, though she apologized a few times for “preaching.”
let it out virginia, it’s just you me and the holy ghost, i said, as we sped down the open road in my robot car with rancid barely noticeable beneath our convo.
she told me how at burning man there’s no exchange of money, so you do things for people or give them items you made leading up to the event, and in exchange they give you what you ask for like food, hugs, foot massages, whatever.
virginia, and her born-again pals, gave spiritual readings in their shaded tent.
but really they were speaking to god, she whispered, through us.
sometimes you just believe people. it doesn’t make sense. sometimes you know better. sometimes you see the red flags and you hush up.
other times you cross the path of someone who might be looney af, but when you talk to them for a few minutes you get it and they get you.
and thats what was going on as virginia and i were driving way too fast to whittier but the road was open and the tesla was humming and we were almost immediately talking on a deeper plane of no baloney and zero filter.
she told me how her man is a tattooed motorcyclist from florida who was racist and sexist and had no interest in the lord until they met.
what attracted you to him? i asked.
he had pure crystal meth, sir, and i was lost at the time.
i don’t like being called anything but tony, but i also don’t like telling people what to do even though i am regularly accused of telling people what to do. so i didn’t waste my time with correcting her. it was sweet.
one day we ran into a biker gang of christians and, sir, they bore witness in a way that stopped me from my destructive path and he turned his life around too. they had stories about sinning way worse than either of us combined.
things like raping, murdering, counterfeiting and drug smuggling. but when they saw The Light they started holding bible readings after AA meetings and their reputation spread.
sir, they told him i shouldn’t stay with him until he shed the evils of his past and put on the lifesaving cloak of righteousness and turned into a proper man for me to be with, and a purer reflection of christ.
did he go for it?
yessir.
where’s this stud now? will i meet him at the church?
no sir he’s in new mexico with our animals. we have a dozen stray dogs, bully breeds, pits, mutts, rejects.
what was your favorite drug before you got sober?
molly, sir. i liked going to furry parties which after a few rounds would explode into sloppy orgies of debauchery.
virginia, you are precisely why i will never stop driving uber.
she started telling me about how his love for her and his respect for the christian bikers got him to read genesis and see himself in the scripture and i had to interrupt because i needed to ask her a question.
im sorry, but i am nervous im going to go to hell, i confessed. a long time ago i was dating a sweet girl. pretty much all my ex-gfs were angels. if one day god says, i gave you my best, i’d be like, duh! but this one was so innocent, like maybe she just got promoted from beginner angel school to let’s see if you can make it on crazy ass earth.
she had never seen porn or gwar or smoked weed before me. or been touched by a man.
i love gwar, said virginia quietly. earlier she revealed she’d seen all the greats in punk and metal as a teen in the late 70s – early 80s thanks to her older sister
but the reason i am going to go to hell is because after we had sex the first time, she fell in love with me, and i was repulsed with myself. i knew i would only want to try to dress her in slutty clothes, turn her into the opposite of who she was, and never stop trying to change her from an innocent ray of sunshine into this cartoon character fantasy girl i always thought i wanted.
but i no longer knew what i wanted, so i broke up with her and it broke her heart.
why would that send you to hell, sir?
because i used the bible to convince her to get with me and i can’t think of a worse thing to do to such an innocent girl.
do you think your sin is worse than peter’s? she asked, reminding me that he denied jesus the day of the crucifixion.
because im an annoying contrarian, i asked, do we know peter made it to paradise? the catholics paint him as a glorified doorman at the pearly gates. i don’t read any scripture where he gets to swim in any chocolate rivers or kiss all the girls as they enter.
but sir, the lord died for all of our sins, even the ones we have yet to commit. did you ask forgiveness?
yes.
did you ask her for forgiveness?
yes, and she granted it to me.
sir, do you believe in jesus as the truth, the way and the light?
of course.
then you are free. take off your dirty robe, comfortable as it may be, and put on the clean one jesus is handing you sir.
when we got to the church she took my hand, closed her eyes, and said the most beautiful prayer. i nearly started crying.
days later im still glowing
despite [looking everywhere] everything.