CONFESSIONAL ON THE GO
Stan Kovac had been a Catholic all of his 27 years. Not a devout Catholic mind you, he had done drugs, slept with prostitutes and had committed small crimes (like the time he robbed the Ole Grandad’s Liquor store off the interstate). But this, this was his biggest sin of all.
He was nervous approaching the confessional box. He hadn’t made one in how long? 6, maybe 7 years? He was afraid his voice would be scratchy, high pitched at times and then low and gravely like the chronic smoker that he was.
“Uh, bless me father for I have sinned,” he said, bending forward so that his frame was closer to the voice box.
There was moment’s pause when another voice, male, bold came on asking, “When was your last confession, my child?”
Uh. He was hoping that question would not arise, knowing damn well that it would.
“Um..like..about 3 years I’d say.”
“Okay, so more like 5”, the other voice responded. “That’s quite a while. What were you doing in that time? Why are you coming to me now?”
“Sorry?” Stan asked.
“I mean, like 5 years. There’s a lot of sinning that goes on in that time frame, wouldn’t you agree?”
Stan cleared his throat, obviously shaken. “Yeah, yeah, for sure, but I don’t really wanna go into that stuff right now..it’s about the present that I am concerned about.”
“Okay so what did ya do? Spill it.”
“I killed my girlfriend.” There. He had said it. Even without the Father’s words he felt that the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
“Come again?” the voice asked, taunting with him. “The reception ain’t always the best in these things.”
Stan could swear he could make out the Rolling Stone’s “Gimme Shelter” playing in the background.
“I said that I killed my girlfriend.”
Another pause. “Right…so do you want fries with that or what?”
Now it was Stan’s turn to have a pause. “What?”
“I said,” the voice responded, “Do you want fries with that? C’mon, I got a line going here.”
Stan felt his blood pressure begging to rise. “No, I don’t want fuc..fries with that. I came here to confess my sins.”
The deep manly voice continued. “Yeah, right I know. So we are offering a special right now..confess your sins and get a Holy Meal for $ 6.99 and one Hail Mary. Or you can supersize your confession which is tell me all for 30 Hail Marys and get our toy of the week. I think we have a tie-in with Pirates of the Caribbean. Do you want a girl or boy toy?”
Stan shook his head as if to clear cobwebs. “Isn’t this the Sacred Heart of St. Thomas?”
The voice on the other end laughed. “Yeah sporto, it used to be, but now it’s St. Patrick’s Drive Through and Confessional. Food and absolution is what we offer. You buyin’? I made you the best offer we got.”
Stan ran a hand down his unshaven face. “This is bullshit,” and he pressed the gas on his beat up Ford Fiso out of the lot.
Before the next vehicle could assume position, the priest went over to the drive through window and stuck his head outside. “Man, what is the world coming to? Everyone wants forgiveness with no business,” he complained to himself.
© Copyright 2016 Steve Balsky. All rights reserved.
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