I ran into Jesus at the corner bistro the other day; either it was him, or "Hair" was doing a revival. He had long hair, a full beard, and wore a robe; pausing on the street to listen, I heard that management was on his case for turning water into wine.
"You just can't do that, you can't produce your own wine on site!,"chided the manager. "How am I to make a profit?," he asked.
Several tables over, some conservatives were incensed by Jesus, demanding that management remove the "homeless person."
Jesus sighed, and his eyes fluttered momentarily. At once both the manager and the irate customers forgot what they were going on about, and turned to other concerns. I decided to approach Jesus or his look-alike, and walked over to his table.
"Nicely played!," I commended Jesus, extending my hand. "Do you mind if I join you?," I asked, gesturing at an empty chair at his table.
"It's a free country," replied Jesus. "Are you free, my son?," he asked.
"I suppose," I replied,"but still the fiends pursue me," I added with a slight smile.
"Tell me about it!," said Jesus with an agreeing gesture. "Can I get you a drink?," he asked, uplifting another water glass from the table.
"Yes, but I don't do wine, at least not this early," I replied, hoping not to offend.
"Not a problem," answered Jesus, handing me the glass. "Is lemonade agreeable?," he inquired.
"That's fine," I answered, taking a sip and almost choking on it.-- The rascal had made me hard lemonade!
"Is the drink not to your liking?," asked Jesus with a note of concern.
"It's fine," I assured him, trying to regain my composure. "It's just not what I expected."
"I get that a lot," said Jesus with a knowing smile as he took a drink of his wine. Oddly, the level of wine in the glass appeared to remain constant even as he drank from it...
...and in the days, weeks, and months which followed, I would learn much about life, the universe, and reality in my recurring conversations with the remarkable figure who delighted in confounding my every expectation...
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