I’m passive aggressive.


case in point:

today a woman, Mrs. C Harrison, came into the drive up in her blue minivan, her boufant hair looking a bit puffier than normal, her frown a bit straighter and her wrinkles a bit tighter. She was preparing for something, though from her distant position in lane three, exactly what she might be preparing for was a bit more difficult to establish. Were those lines from laughter that creased in the corners of her eyes? Or were they from stress, from anxiety of the moment that was coming?

I pulled her tube out and dumped the contents onto my desk. Two straight deposits, no sign of cause for worry. But, what’s this? Bright orange and red beneath the checks and deposit slips? I picked it up and threw it down almost instantly. My stomach clenched and my chapped lips seared as they came together in a tight line of anger and malice. “You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered and with shaking hands I went for the deposits with a bit of savage speed. I wanted her out of my drive up, I wanted her out of my life from he weekly deposits with her rolled up windows and air of self righteousness that was in display on my desk. Cody asked what I was flipping out over, he clambered around the cash machine and came to my side.

“Oh God, one of those.” He picked it up in and in a mocking voice began to read.

It was a pamphlet about how I am going to hell (and for accuracy sake, according to the pamphlet and current statistics there is a good chance that Cody is coming along for the sauna in the lake of fire). It was a messy affair. The graphics were disproportionate, the fonts over done, the stats inconceivable, the Bible verses stripped of their context. I was hurting inside, feeling shame for my brothers and sisters who think that actions like this will somehow bring outsiders to the faith. This isn’t hte first time I’ve gotten a pamphlet through the tube. In fact, for a while, I was getting them on a regular basis. Apparently, I look like I need Jesus pretty badly.* I get them from the JW’s, the LDS’ and the “Christians” fairly often. This one was asking if I was deceived. Did I know that even as a “good person” I wasn’t going to make it? But wait, amidst these flames of despair, there’s hope! Jesus! Yeah, scare me into christianity, make Jesus my get out of hell free card, because that’s all he wants, really, if you think about it.


So, because I just put in two weeks, and because my  last day is next Friday, because I didn’t feel at risk for losing my job, I did something a bit impulsive. A bit self righteous and incredibly inappropriate.

I scribbled a couple Bible verses on the bottom of her receipt and sent it out with the pamphlet wrapped securely around the passive aggressive note.

I hope she looks them up.

I hope she realizes this isn’t hte way to love people.

Because telling someone they’re going to Hell without even knowing their name…

that isn’t loving people at all.


*granted, I do need Jesus pretty desperately. No one is going to deny that–least of all me.


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