Southern bears, Jesus and LSD

by

comment

Have you ever been to Fuel Pizza after 2 a.m. sober? More specifically, have you ever been to Fuel Pizza after 2 a.m. sober during Halloween season, when Charlotte’s usual craziness is publicly acceptable?

One night at home, I catch a crazy craving for a slice. Without a drop of alcohol in my system, I head over to Fuel. Everybody else there? Hammered.

I sit at the picnic tables and observe the people around me, many still wearing costumes, doing everything but eating. One strange couple is doing what can only be categorized as light petting. Another guy uses Central Avenue as his catwalk, letting the breeze hit his gown in a way that, I must admit, is Titanic-ly dramatic. Two random dudes pop-locking. But the person you can’t take your eyes off of is Jesus.

This guy actually looks like Jesus every day, but this night, a toga brings together his prophetic look. He is totally in character, spouting peace and love — and insisting we all get high together.

Instead of laughing and moving on, one guy determines to shut him up. (I guess drunk atheists don’t like Jesus costumes). He picks up some BBQ sauce and says he’s going to put it on the back of Jesus’ toga. He tells the people at my table that the sweet stickiness will attract bears and, “as we all know,” he says matter-of-factly, “Southern bears can’t be stopped.”

He went on to explain there are multiple kingdoms on Earth, and Jesus doesn’t run the animal one — Southern bears do (I’ll spare you the rest of that drunken insight). He does his devious deed, resulting in a big brown spot against the white cloth — and Jesus is totally oblivious. People erupt in laughter, but he just thinks it’s something he said.

With the smell of BBQ sauce in the air, eventually he realizes something’s up and asks if he has anything on the back of his toga. “Yeah, it looks like you shat yourself,” I tell him. He replies in calm disbelief, “That sucks, man.”

Somewhere during his pro-Christ, pro-Prop 19 rant, after a brief but playful physical altercation with our Southern bear philosopher inches away from a cop car, Jesus makes a peace offering. He offers us LSD (which got a “hell no” from me), then admits it’s shitty — because someone dressed like Christ wouldn’t lie to you.

I decline and head to the car, laughing to myself. I can’t believe Jesus offered me LSD

Add a comment