February 7, 2000
I'd didn't come to find Jesus, I'm just checking for a fetus.

Today I decided that I was going to have another pregnancy test done, seeing as how my body has deemed it necessary to withhold the red river. I don’t know if they have these in every city, but here, we have these billboards on buses and streets saying Pregnant? Worried?!? FREE testing!




So I figure what the hell can it hurt to go and check one more time for free? You almost have to saw your right arm off to pay for a home test. Well, maybe I’m just cheap. Who knows? Still, eighteen bucks is quite a bit to me. Anyhow, so I decided to go on my lunch break after sitting in the parking lot and eating my free bagel sandwich, I’d been holding my pee for so long I thought I would burst. They made me sit in the waiting room for 25 minutes before I went and grabbed someone by the arm and told them I had to pee now and could they please supply the cup?

So what happens right before I let go of my control over my bladder? I drop the cup into the bowl.

I fish it out with a Q-tip and hold it with a bit of toilet paper, the cup having a diameter of maybe an inch and a half. Of course I peed all over my fingers.

I finally manage to fill the cup a bit and set it aside, washing my hands thoroughly and then opening the door to signal that all’s well. It doesn’t take long before the same lady comes back with the test in hand and has me administer the test, Drop drop drop drop drop. She shows me that the test is working before taking it into another room and laying it down. After that, she leads me into a small room that could be a psychiatrist’s office. Country Living and fake flowers. Deliver me.

I ended up sitting in the room for over half an hour waiting on the counsler. Once I couldn’t stand it anymore I got up, took the same lady that did my test by the arm and told her I needed my results because I had to get back to lunch.

Instead of just telling me my results, she witnessed to me.

The pompous bitch actually WITNESSED to me.

She whipped out a Christian tract on Jesus and started reading outloud. I almost busted out laughing in her face. What does this have to do with anything that I had come for?

I did not come to find Jesus, I had come to find fetus. (Isn’t that clever! I’m so fucking witty sometimes I surprise myself.)

Finally, she finished reading aloud by rounding it off with John 6:66, and showed me an illustration of man on one side of the cliff, God on the other, with a cross saying “Jesus” on it acting as a bridge. With her lacquered acrylic fingernail she pointed and asked where I was on this chart. I hadn’t realized it was a chart.

I looked at her and told her that I wasn’t on the chart. That after studying numerous religions, and respecting each on it’s own merits, the only one that had resounded like truth inside of me were Goddess Theories, and that my husband was a Buddhist.

Then she started calling Buddhism a cult.

That’s when I got the hell out of there.

When I got back I threw the tract at Holly Hobby and laughed while telling her about it. She comes from a family so immersed in their own religious feces that they’ve completely alienated her, and she has nothing but contempt for organized religion. Can’t say as I blame her. She read it and then we ended up showing it to the other Wiccan in the office, who got furious. That’s when I realized that I had the right to be mad too. They held me hostage by not telling me my results until they had had time to properly witness to me.

By the way, test negative.

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