If you are like me, you are sick and tired of being approached by CIA operatives in the grocery store line.
The CIA operative who approached me was an overweight black woman in her mid-fifties. She wore a maroon warm up suit and a matching baseball cap. She told me she had every top-secret security clearance there was. She also said she had lived in seventeen different countries and she was treated nicer in all seventeen countries than she was treated in the United States.
She called me “Colonel.”
While the cashier rang her up, she informed me she couldn’t discuss any of her assignments, because she was sworn to secrecy. I thanked her for her service to our country.
She finally left the store before the Grocery Store People (a thinly disguised bunch of al-Qaeda operatives if I ever saw any) could ensnare her in some clever trap. When I left a few minutes behind her she was out in the parking lot talking to a millennial who looked extremely worried. All I could think was the millennial was actually a Soviet agent and our CIA operative was on to him.
Meeting a real CIA operative was exciting, but not nearly as exciting as the time I met Jesus in Dayton, Ohio.
I was standing on a sidewalk when he walked up and introduced himself. He was a short, pudgy fellow. He wore a white robe and a white scull cap. He had on sandals though it was a bit chilly for open-toed footwear if you asked me.
“Good morning,” he said to me, smiling. “I’m Jesus Christ.”
“As in the ‘Son of God,’ Jesus Christ?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, beaming. “I am Jesus Christ, Son of God. Your Lord and Savior.”
“You look taller in your pictures,” I told him.
He actually laughed then said, “Can I bless you?”
“Bless away,” I said.
He muttered a quick prayer and made a few hand gestures, which I assumed was the blessing. I thanked him and we went our separate ways when the light changed.
By the way, I actually wound up walking over and saving the terrified millenial from the CIA Operative. I got her talking to me instead of him. He jumped into his car and took off. I honestly believe she forgot talking to me a few minutes earlier. She literally told me everything she told me before. I even thanked her for her service again.
My wife, Marianne asked me, “Weren’t you scared of her?”
“I’m not scared of anyone,” I told her. “I am personal friends with Jesus.”