My family has always had a habit of re-naming places around town to something more amusing or true. For example, if you want a computer, you go to Com-pewsa (CompUSA), to visit an older part of Birmingham you’d head to Eye-ron-delay (Irondale), you can always get some coffee at Barns and Farms (Barnes and Noble), and there is always sub-par electronics at Radio Crap (Radio Shack) where their slogan is, “You’ve got money; we’ve got junk(tm).”
This practice is still going on with Steven and me, and we’ve set to work re-naming some of the places around Auburn. In particular there is this chicken finger restaurant that has a Christian theme paired with good chicken. We’re probably going to Hell for this, but we call it Jesus Fingers. And Jesus Fingers is a good place to eat.
Well, last night I was craving me some Jesus Fingers, and since we forgot to get the taco shells for the tacos we were planning to cook, we headed over to get us some Fingers, making jokes all the way.
“What if I accidentaly ordered a place of Jesus Fingers instead of chicken fingers?” Steven asked. “Do you think they’d kick us out?”
I laughed. “Yeah, they’d smite us and say, ‘Out, sinner!’ Man, please, please, please don’t order Jesus Fingers.”
On and on we went. Would Jesus appreciate us eating his fingers or would He get offended? To that I said, “Well, He did say ‘take of this bread for it is my body.'”
Then Steven shot back, “‘Take of my fingers, for they are deep-fried.'”
At that, I just lost it, laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face. It was a typical Carrie moment. Unfortunately, that moment happened right as we were pulling into the restaurant, so we had to sit in the car a few minutes while I got my giggles out. I was still doing my best to stifle my laughter as we finally walked inside and, thankfully, ordered chicken fingers.
We sat in the ‘Wild Goats’ section and waited for our food, pondering what circle of Hell is reserved for us. Wherever it is, I hope they serve our favourite Fingers.