Saturday, November 2, 2013

One Stop Shop

One Stop Shop 

Well how do you like them apples! I got the flu shot this mornin’ – in church! Now there’s a switch! What I usually get there is hellfire an’ brimstone an’ the collection plate passed. Oh I do get a couple’a hymns to clear my throat with the package, but since my voice has about bit the dust, that don’t help much.

But this now is somethin’ brand new. I guess rentin’ out the church for this kind of activity is a good alternative to bingo night. Not only that, but it brings a whole raft o’ new people to the church. Who knows what they’ll think when they get there? Could be a bunch o’ new members.

So anyways I get there an’ the parkin’ lot is near to full, but I manage. At the door there’s signs directin’ you to the big hall where it’s all at an’ there’s a bunch o’ women dressed in them lime green vests with a big “X” acrosst the back like the road construction traffic controllers. They’re right friendly too an’ invite me in to a table where I get to complete some forms an’ wait fer my number to be called. No sooner I get done an’ my number comes up. Holy Toledo, that’s some service.

Of course, I’m waitin’ for some grizzly old matron with wrestlers arms an’ a giant spike needle to spear me, but no, I get “Cheryl”, my own personal nurse who smiles an’ asks after my health before she tells she’ll give me a little poke. Pffffft! She’ so pretty an’ friendly she could give me any size poke she wants! I wouldn’t a minded even if she’s hit me over the head with a sledgehammer. I’m still processin’ her big blue eyes an’ she’s already puttin’ a band aid on my arm, tellin me to go sit down for ten minutes before I leave, just to make sure I don’t keel over.

Well, I never! I didn’t see that comin’! Floatin’ back out to the parkin’ lot, I’m feelin’ nothin’ but happy at havin’ been to church, an’ havin’ my heavenly flu shot at the same time. I tell ya, I got to hand it to them Mennonites. They sure put one over on the Lutherans an’ the Catholics with their Thursday night bingo. They rent out the hall an’ furniture to the health authority, provide a few volunteers an’ Bob’s yer uncle! An’ they got a preacher there in his office to administer last rites in case somebody croaks, or to welcome new members if they don’t. A guaranteed income an’ they don’t even have to lead their adherents into gambling with their bingo stuff an’ questionable food. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’.

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