Cat Bowtie

Cat Bowtie

Reads on the Bible

I answered my door and there he stood: shocking blond hair closely cropped and starched shirt. He had a pronounced pleat in his pants, an engraved name tag that read “Carl” in gold faced Times New Roman, a narrow black tie and a big white smile. This one was must be brave, I thought. Jehovah’s Witnesses often come to my door, but not often do they come alone.

“Good afternoon, sir, are you interested in the Word of the Lord?”

To fully appreciate this situation, you have to understand the hurricane-swept state I kept my condo in. Directly in the line of sight of the doorway was a scratched beige leather loveseat that I had picked up for $50 on craigslist. To the right of said sofa was a purple plastic crate almost entirely covered by a black restaurant table cloth acting as an end table. The opposing TV, set to High Stakes Poker on mute, was the only light in the otherwise dingy young man den. The stench of neglected Cheez-It boxes strewn about the patchy blue carpet ate a malaise into every visitor’s face. Every visitor, that is, but Carl.

“May I come in, Mr…?”

He was perky, and would not have looked out of sorts with freckles, a bowtie and a little red wagon, but the Jehovah’s Witnesses only seemed to send out the most thick-skinned of missionaries capable of dealing with the kind of repeated failure that goes along with door-to-door missionary work. Plus they have a uniform.

“Sure, Carl, come on in, let’s chat.”

“Thank you kindly sir, my name is Car- oh I guess you already know that!” He shrugged and laughed goofily as he reached out to shake my hand. Despite my cold-hearted, ill-intentioned way, there was something disarming about witnessing a fully grown man chortle and freely use the word “kindly”.

“I’m Nick, Carl. Why don’t you take a seat?” I shook his hand then motioned to the littered loveseat.

“I’m sorry, Carl, I just wasn’t expecting any visitors. Let me get this for you, Carl.” I swatted an open box of Cheez-Its off the leather seat to the other side of the room scattering a few collateral snacks about.

“Please, Carl, sit.” Whenever I am trying to make someone with a nametag feel uncomfortable I overuse their name. I figure nobody wants to wear a nametag so it follows that nobody wants continual attention brought to it.

“Thank you, Nick.” Without missing a beat, Carl bounced over to the desiccated loveseat, put his calves to the cushions, bent at the middle and ended up seated neatly, occupying a perfect half.

“Nick, have you ever heard of the greatest book ever written?” Apparently he must have thought I had on a nametag.

“Do you mean the Bible, Carl?”

“Yes, Nick, I do.”

“Well sure, Carl, I have heard of the Bible.”

“Have you ever read the Bible, Nick?”

“No, Carl, I haven’t.”

“Do you ever feel empty, Nick? Like life is without meaning.”

“Well, Carl, I play a lot of poker, so actually winning pots mean quite a good deal to me.”

“I see that, Nick. Would you mind it too awfully much if we just turned off the television so as to maybe, hone in on the topic at hand?”

“I would, Carl, because without the TV there is no light. I can’t very well see the Light without light to begin with.” I smiled a Cheshire cat smile, waiting for Carl to squirm a bit in his pressed pants, made antsy by my slightly blasphemous wordplay. But the little booger didn’t squirm at all -- he laughed!

“All right, Nick, we all have to make due.” Then he turned towards me, even pivoting with his feet so he could face me entirely as best the loveseat would allow.

“As great as the Bible is, Nick, it is the single most misunderstood piece of Literature in the history of the World.”

“There’s a lot of truth to that.”

“More people have been hurt under the auspices of false understanding of the Good Book than just about any other way. And Nick, it’s these people’s false ideas which are leaving good folk like yourself with a bad taste for the Bible in their mouths.” I was finding myself listening to what Carl was saying, a dangerous enterprise as I was also losing focus of my goal to drive him screaming from my hovel.

“Right, Carl, I have a question for you.”

“Yessir?”

“What do you think of poker?”

“Well, Nick, gambling is not the sort...”

“But poker isn’t gambling, Carl. It’s a card game, Carl. Like Uno.”

“Uno’s not often played for millions of dollars, Nick.”

“No, Carl, it isn’t.”

“But back to the Bible for a moment…” Carl breathed in and repositioned himself. AH HA! I was back on track!

“Hold on, Carl. Now I’ve never read the Bible as I was raised by an Atheist and a Jew –“

“Do you mean a Jewish Man?”

“Yeah, my Dad was a Jew. And like I said, I’m no expert on the Bible but I imagine that you are, right Carl?”

“No sir. I am no type of expert on –“

“But you’ve read the Bible, right, Carl?”

“Yes sir, several times!”

“Great! Now according to the Bible, God is everywhere in everything right?”

“Nick, if you want to keep on talking then I can just-“

“Now wait, Carl. Just follow me here, you’ve come into my home now, and I’d be happy to listen to you, just follow me here first.”

“All right.” It was so easy that I almost felt bad for him. Poor guy, trying to spread his faith, I wondered if he would have any spirit left after he left my little den.

“Good, great, OK, now, God is everywhere… in everything, correct?”
“Yes, correct… except for Hell.”

“Fine. So God is everywhere except for Hell. Now we can both agree that everything on Earth, is by definition, not in Hell.”

“Yes but that does not mean that it cann-“

“Tut tut, we had a deal here, Carl.”

“You’re right, Nick, I apologize.”

“So poker, like the poker which is lighting our room right now, is necessarily occurring outside of Hell, so is governed by the laws of God.” Carl looked quizzically up, I had him now. “Right?”

“Yes… that’s right.”

“So it follows, Carl, that if poker is solely about lying then it would violate God’s law and become sinful.”

Silence. I wanted to give Carl a second to catch up.

“Ever heard of Barry Greenstein, Carl?”

“Is that your father?”

“No, no, no. Barry Greenstein is a guy who donates to charities across the world. He’s given millions and millions of dollars to starving children in Africa. And you know how he makes all of that money he gives away, Carl?”

“Poker?”

“Yup, he’s a poker player.”

“I see what you’re saying but poker is about making money, Nick, and Timothy 6:10 tells us, ‘For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.’ And though Mr. Greenstein may be doing some holy activities with his money, God knows what he is doing with the rest of it!”

“Precisely, Carl, God knows, we don’t. I may not have ever read the Bible, but I certainly know the part that goes ‘judge not others lest ye be judged yourself.’ Are there poker players who spend their money on prostitutes and booze and God knows what else? Just like there are members of the clergy who do, you bet there are! But are there Barry Greensteins out there just like there are real holy men, who do live out the Bible’s Word? Are there players who try to help the world with their money?”

“But the Bible also warns against the drive to ‘get rich quick’.”

“Rich is all relative, Carl, that’s the not judging thing. Minimum wage in California is about $8.00 an hour which would be about $320 a week for a full-time gig. And minimum wage is certainly no get rich quick scheme! But in Costa Rica, $320 per week would put you in the upper-middle class, you’d be able to buy a house! While making $50,000 for a day of high-stakes poker work may seem like a ton to you or me, that’s tiddlywinks to Warren Buffett who has been going to Church every Sunday for the past 60 years.”

“Church going and without sin are two very different things.”

“Great point, Carl, great point. What does the Bible say about winning?”

“About winning?”

“Yes, Carl, about winning.”

“I don’t recall anything directly addressing winning.”

“That’s right! Because the most important thing in poker isn’t money, it’s winning! Just like the most important thing you do is win people over to your faith. There are plenty of people who play poker for funny money online, and have a grand time doing it! The most important thing in strip poker is winning people’s-“

“I’m following you Nick, let’s not get into strip poker.”

“Ok, Carl, I hear you.” Silence again. I’d gotten a little carried away, and now we sat without much to say. Our faces glowed blue from the muted TV light.

“Nick?”

“You want to start talking about the Bible now, Carl?”

“No. I’d like for you to tell me about poker.”

“Jeez, really? I’d be happy to Carl. You know I was just trying to scare you away before but if you, uh, want some Cheez-Its…”

“No, Nick, if I wanted Cheez-Its I would have reached into your sofa and gotten them for myself.”

“Yeah…”

“Cleanliness is next to Godliness.”

“But that’s what you’re here for, right Carl? A Jehovah’s Witness sent to heal the heathens.”

“I’m not a maid, Nick. Nor am I a Jehovah’s Witness.”

“You’re not? But you came to my door and brought –“

“Nick, you really need to read what I actually brought to your table, not what you expected from someone who just looks like me.” I couldn’t help but smile, this time a friendly one rather than a mouthful of mischief. I may not have been one for religion, but whatever it was that was guiding my visitor was an inarguably positive force.

“Carl, you keep thinking like that and you might just have a wonderful poker career ahead of you.”

“Well thank you, Nick.”

“You bet.”

About the Author

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Halloween Costume?

Im trying to work with what i have. I want to be a cat. I have some black velvet pants with sparkles on them and a black velvet top ( plain) and a cat tail and a bowtie thingy

That Should Be Finee =) !
Just Put Some Black Whiskers On Your Face With Eyeliner Or Paint Or Something Likee That And Eye-shadow ( A Smokey Colour Would Work Well ! ) That Should Be Really Nice !

Cat Wearing A Bow-tie