The Day I Spotted God Shoplifting

The Day I Spotted God Shoplifting

Many questions arose the day I spotted God shoplifting in the grocery.

God, God of everything, steals canned chicken? What could She possibly need, Producer of produce, Potter, Baker, Maker of meat and me? Stuffing another can in Her purse, out popped tomato soup, and I thought She’s sloppy in Her old age. I wondered if She had ever been detained – the sign reads “Shoplifters Get a Free Ride In a Police Car.’’

A unique opportunity, I followed Her and pretended to examine limp yellow celery, though She had to know my intention.

I wondered what She thought of this produce department? She’s probably seen better, like the good stuff that First Week. That was some fruit, I tell you.

I asked Her some of the big ones.

Are you God? THE God, God of everything?

Of course.

Would You recommend another market for fresh produce?

Anywhere is better than this dump.

Why are You shopping here?

I’m not shopping. Are you blind?

So, this Neil Diamond guy: What do you make of him?

Not my freaking problem. Get away from me or I’ll smite thee.

Annoying God of everything not on my list of errands, I apologized.

Have a good morning.

I shall.

Of course.

I waited in my car. I had to see the car God of everything drives, even follow Her home. A brownstone on the tony north side? A flat in the near west side?

I considered now I have something on God of everything, though She has plenty on me, because She is God of everything.

She drives a yellow ‘72 VW Beetle. It’s probably hot.