I stopped believing in Jesus when I saw him shaking the lunchroom vending machine. He was trying to loosen his stuck Fritos. They were barbecue flavor.
What was Jesus doing eating barbecue Fritos? Why didn't he just use his powers to get them out?
"Have you always worked here?" I asked him.
"Of course not," he replied, hands still shaking the machine.
"You know, hundreds of people die doing that every year."
"Wouldn't be my first time."
I looked at the Frito bag, dangling from the silver coil. It was holding on for dear life.
"You could just pay for another bag. That always gets them loose." I stared at my tuna sandwich. The bread was crusty and dry but the tuna looked moist and delicious. I peeled off part of the crust and took a small bite, trying to savor the creamy fish as it slipped around on my tongue.
"Dammit!" Jesus yelled.
I stuffed the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and rushed out. It's never pleasing to eat while someone is shouting.
A few hours later I returned to the lunchroom and saw the dangling Fritos still hanging on for dear life. I dropped seventy-five cents in the coin slot and made my selection. The coil turned and the Fritos dropped down with a crumpling thud. I ripped the bag open and tasted one, shrugged, and emptied the rest into the trashcan.
Funny thing is I used to love Fritos when I was a kid.
published 16 November 2011