Dear Mr Bishop,
Please stop talking. You have been preaching for 30 minutes, and I still am not sure what you are talking about. I don't really go to church here, but they pay me nicely to sing pieces that are kind of pretty so I do…. In exchange for this service that I provide, I get to sit in the bank of the church in a choir loft where I can sleep, or blog, or read the paper for twenty minutes while someone up front preaches…you keep it short, we sing pretty. We sort of have this unwritten code… But you sir, are getting dangerously close to the 35 minute mark…. And that's not cool.
We in the choir feel that we should have been given fair warning of you not honoring our agreement. This is the west village, we have brunch to get to, mimosas to drink, shopping to attend to, s&m sales… Don't you want to put on your fabulously pointy hat and get Eggs Benedict with us ? You can bring your little scepter thing too, it's cool…. But we need to get a move on.
40 minutes now…. Ok, any longer and you're gonna pick up the tab..yes, I believe we are about to stage a mutiny in the choir loft. We will walk out, forcing the organist to finish out the rest of the service without us…. Have you heard his variations on a theme from the Flinstones??? Of the nine of us, I believe four of us are still awake….
Ok, we're making a coffee run, since apparently we have a lot of time on our hands. Todd's gonna grab me a dark roast and a pumpkin loaf…. Which i might add, if I had consumed before your sermon, may have helped me actually pay attention to your ecstatic ramblings….ok they're bringing you your hat now….. That's a strong hint…. Take it!!
Agnostic soprano in the choir loft
PS you are officially uninvited to brunch.
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