When I arrived at “The Slug and Philosopher” last evening, Old Ted had just finished his pub’ dinner of Ram Shanks with roast pineapple and was chatting with Bert over a couple of pints of Guinness. Bert is a fair bit younger than Ted but they’re good friends and take pleasure in sharing the same miserable outlook on life.“Ted’s wife is trying to convince him to go to church with her this Saturday,” Bert said to me as I pulled up a beer and sat down.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Ted doesn’t believe in God.”
“So can’t you just go and look at the scenery, maybe join in with a bit of singing?” I asked Ted.
He grimaced. “No, mate, I can’t make myself be something I’m not.”
“Well can’t you just pretend to yourself that you believe in God long enough to get through Saturday morning? You know, like acting,” I suggested.
Ted pointed at the shelves of ‘curios’ and ‘knick-knacks’ hanging on the wall of the pub.
“I’d find it easier to pretend that blue teapot can fly!”
Bert laughed and said, “Well do that then, every time they mention God, think of the pub’s teapot spinning through space, controlling your destiny!”
“Well I’ve got to do something, they’ll think I’m selfish if I don’t show up for my own daughter’s wedding.”
One day I’ll kill him.