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Having grumped on Baki's blog I thought it might make a slice of life entry as to why the spirit and soul is constantly being put through a milking machine.

About a week ago I was embezzling $60 from my son's savings account (to be returned next payday) in order to eat. Ruth's visiting girl friend for the week is uncomfortable being left alone with a male in the house (even if I'm the house renter) while the long suffering spouse is in school so I found myself getting up, cleaning up and leaving the house early for second shift to relieve her fears and find something to do for awhile. Ruth seemed to forget the ball and chain needs some sort of replenishment so no lunch/supper to take to work this week. I had used the holiday pay to do most of the October bills and gave her some play money to entertain her girlfriend with so I was short of cash and was taking advantage of Dan's generous heart.

Upon leaving the credit union the door was held for me by a charming dark brown haired lady who I thanked as I usually beat the ladies to the door holding chore. Always interesting who does and who does not acknowledge this very simple courtesy. I started the car up when the event I had been waiting a week for finally occured. The oil light came on. I have a very small very slow leak so I can drive about about a month before adding any--actual repair is in doubt due to the expense and age of the car. Now said lady had parked next to me (I believed) as a white car occupied the empty slot from five minutes back. I'm putting in the oil when I notice a $20 bill right in front of the car and I snatch it up.

There is at least a 30 second wrestling with temptation. There is no doubt what Jesus would do and I didn't feel like doing a guilt trip over money that really wasn't mine since I was already in possession of money that wasn't mine in the first place. I sigh and go back into the credit union where I make two mistakes.

As God is my witness I never once thought of giving the $20 to the receptionist. There were only two ladies in the credit union and surely one of them was the white car owner.

Mistake one: I ignore my door opener and proceed to the younger cuter one who's busy taking a phone picture of her baby girl. I notice tatoos all over her arms and find myself studying them while holding out the money to her suddenly conscious of what this might look like to a bystander. I slap the drama queen and present the vital question. The young lady is not offended and freely admits the money is not hers but wish it was.

I then clear up mistake #1 by going to the lady who I thought owned the currency all along all the while wondering at the esteem issues I must have trying to get ahh you're so nice out of perfect strangers. Just how long has it been since I've received a real compliment??

Anyhoo, my door opener is slightly startled by this 'old' man back in her life. She doesn't think she lost any money--looks into her purse which appeared to be one of those cloth type with a drawstring--opens it--looks down and decides why yes thank you very much for the return. She said I was very honest. I walked away still aware that I really coveted the money for myself and how to let her know I was trying to honor the Lord. Instead I just mumbled it was a great temptation and hurried off.

Then the head swelling starts in. My what a fine fellow I am blah blah blah isn't God pleased etc. etc. which is the surest way I know that the blessing has been lost and wasted but that position in the Pharisee Hall of Fame is still secure--just waiting for the engravers to finish the plaque.

It gets worse. I spend the evening at work NOT mentioning trying to salvage the good work. Also wondering just how pathetic and withdrawn from reality have I become. MUCH ado over nothing. I share it with Ruth that night with the usual that's nice dear wondering if she was really listening.

Worse yet three days later.

I'm again at the credit union.

Embezzling again--the $60 did not go far (after all I just had to buy the Shadow reprint #11 and oh no Suicide Squad mini series #2 was out--MUST have that etc.) Why yes we did eat the other day--Dairy Queen hotdog combo meal. Today we bless the Subway ladies with our presence. Now most the credit union clerks know me the current cashier remembered the deed of the other day and asked who I gave the money too. I told him that of the two choices the tall dark brown haired lady was the winner. Told him the money was not mine to keep and I was attempting to return it properly (before laying claim to it) even - this time - mentioning an attempt to somewhat honor the Lord Christ.

The next sentence from him put me in drama queen mode.

"A half hour after you left a blond lady came by asking if anyone turned in a $20."

Sigh. It made sense. There was no wind that day. The bill had been right in the center of the fender area--what would a customer leaving her car to come to the credit union door be doing walking the other way to the front of her car. She had started to shrug me off when she did the purse inspection thing and lastly when women compliment me it's invariedly a lie (except Kiz Paws--I believe her).

I told the clerk I had done the right thing regardless and my conscience was clear (except for the spiritual preening) and any stealing was on her head.

Not knowing the very worst was ahead for me.

By the time I got to work I decided this would a fun 'drama' to annoy my beloved co-worker Brandy with.

So I start off with the soul sucking that women do to me to stomp my spirit into the ashes. Unfortunatlely even though Brandy gives me clear warning she's not in a good mood and not interested in any more whining about Logos not returning my calls (or stories along those lines ) I did not like being repulsed in that manner. We had had a conversation the day before in which I was seriously being a bonehead and admitted such that had ended on a slightly chilly note. Now a gauntlet's tossed and yes the Bible is true--Only by pride cometh contention. I contend that her bad mood is no reason to ignore my little story as who knows it might at least entertain her but she'll have none of it.

Then I make the final mistake.

I cross a line. And I did it deliberately and with malice. Only friends that deeply care for each other can do this. It's ugly and evil but out of great love can birth great mischief. (Now mind you I very much would like this young lady as a wife for son Dan so my sin is worse for it.)

I tell her to come talk to me when she's ready to present a proper Christian attitude. Grace86 and Andave Ya decide to update their prayer lists.

And walk away to the back room where I read and eat lunch.

I get halfway there when my brain is fried by a very sharp rebuke I truly believe is from the Holy Spirit.

I go back and tell her I was out of line and had no right to say that and forgive me. I walk away again--she acknowledged the apology but the rest of the afternoon (40 mins later she goes home) other then a comment on her music she was listening to we say nothing. As part of the argument before the fatal thrust I had bragged women leave me all the time and I keep going and that had to have hurt her. Brandy was the most supportive during the mid-life crisis and the argument yesterday she had shared something very personal (and unexpected) but I had pled an inability to relate 'that' day so here we are a day later position reversed because poor little Richie wasn't getting listened to with the full attention he's been used to by his favorite.

Will someone send me a gag and spoon I can use.

Remember warts and all (just not the running sores). Despite what Grace86 may think I'm really not a nice person--but I hope an honest one.

Yes I called her later but her cell phone is turned off. Her heart is large -- we are both on our four days off in a row so I expect a reconcilation next week if not sooner.

Because Brandy's the real saint.

NEXT: The Visitor and How It Went