Hearing the Voice of God in the Blockbuster Parking Lot

Note: If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a million times, nobody writes titles like me. I’m so proud right now.

Anyway, I thought that’s who it was, at least for a second.

Here’s what happened . . .

A few months ago I was strolling into our local Blockbuster store (now closed), just minding my own business, probably going in to rent The Big Lebowski for the eleventy-third time.

Note to self: Actually buy a copy of The Big Lebowski.

Note to reader: If you didn’t recognize eleventy-third as a Tolkien reference, I don’t even know you.

Anyway, as I cross the parking lot I hear a man’s voice. Not an ordinary voice, but a tinny, disembodied voice from somewhere . . . else. It echoed as if coming from a helicopter or police bullhorn or something.

The disembodied voice simply said, “Mr. Shoe.”

I froze. At first I thought it was the Voice of God or something, but I was 77% sure that God wouldn’t refer to me as “Mr. Shoe.” I was pretty sure HE would call me “Mr. Shoemaker” or even “Dave” but then again I couldn’t be positive, now could I? And the fact that I may or may not have heard angels singing is beside the point.

As I stood there looking around quizzically, I heard the voice again . . .

“Mr. Shoe.”

WHAT. THE. HELL?

And then, in a sing-song voice . . .

“M-i-s-t-e-r  S-h-h-h-h-h-o-o-o-o-o-o-e.”

OK, now I was a tad freaked out. Have I  mentioned it was late at night?

Just as I was about hit my knees or run back to my car screaming like a 12-year old girl, I heard the voice laughing. And then . . .

“Over h-e-e-e-e-r-e!

Only then did I look over towards the Kentucky Fried Chicken joint next door, where one of my former students was manning the drive-thru window . . . and talking to me through the drive-thru speaker.

Damn kids.

Now, although I’m fairly certain this type of behavior goes against KFC protocol, the kid must have thought this was the funniest gag ever pulled, as evidenced by his laughter that could undoubtedly be heard through the speakers from a quarter mile away.

What I wanted to do was run over there and kick him in the Snack Box, but what I did was yell,  “Ha-ha, real funny! Why don’t you go kill some poultry!”

I know, not my best retort, but I was still a bit shaken.

So that’s it, the story of my encounter with the disembodied voice that I thought may have been God that was actually a former student working at a KFC.

What can I say? I lead a strange but often interesting life.

PS – Now that I think about it, I think God would call me “David”. I don’t know no why but I’m fairly certain of it.

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