A night out with God.
Created | Updated Aug 23, 2004
I met him by chance outside my local bar and as there wasn’t much going on he asked if he could join me on my weekly night out “on the town”. I was a bit dubious at first, I mean firstly there’s the age difference, he was a lot older than me and I was worried that he may cramp my style, besides I already had problems with people making Moses jokes about my long beard, but as he promised to pay for the food and drinks and not talk about work, I agreed.
So there I was, all set for a night out with God, a sworn bachelor whom women of all ages worshiped and who to my knowledge had at least one son out of wedlock, ..umm, maybe he wasn’t that square after all..
I hadn’t a clue where to go, my normal route seemed a little tame for a man of his experience. I played with the idea of going down to the coast where the nightlife is buzzing with all sorts of immoral goings on. I had read a couple of books on him and he had seen a lot worse, although after reflecting on the way he had dealt with a few of those situations I thought better of it, I didn’t want to risk getting into trouble with the law or worse be held partly responsible for the worse weather conditions ever to hit this part of Tuscany.
So I settled for my normal route. We left Aristo’s and walked towards the Osteria where we ordered a couple of glasses of good wine and some antipasti to help it go down. After a few hours of drinking and generally putting the world to right I was feeling a little tipsy so decided it was time to leave. I know he promised to pay but he was my guest and therefore I got the bill, which anyhow was only for two wines and one tunafish antipasto, funny I thought we had drunk and eaten a lot more!
God insisted we went to the local Jazz club as he had promised a young local lad that he would come to hear him sing, although when we arrived there was a general jamming karaoke session going on and I had a hard time stopping God from joining in and singing “I did it my way”.
We spent the rest of the night at the bar chatting to tourists and potential house buyers where he expertly avoided answering the questions “where are you from originally” and “what do you do for a living”, oh well, even if he tells the truth they’ll think that it’s wine talk,
Ps: I got home at three in the morning but even after explaining who I was with I still got into trouble...