God Has a Few Regrets, Part 1
Some Unlikely Subjects Set the Record Straight – Intrepid journalist Doug Bercy sits down with the people you most want to hear from, but never thought you would, for hard-hitting, wide-ranging, and surprisingly frank interviews. In the first installment, the Supreme Being shares His unique perspective and cracks wise about everything on His green Earth.
God Has a Few Regrets, Part 1
My Exclusive Interview with God – Doug Bercy for the Swamp Sentinel
What follows is an exclusive interview with God, who sat down with me on consecutive days at the Hyatt Regency in Coral Gables, Florida, where He was vacationing with His extended family. His image and voice cannot be recorded so this is the word of God transcribed from handwritten notes (emphases are mine) and I believe a verbatim account except for the couple pages where He spilled His Bloody Mary. I’m not at liberty to reveal the exact place, dates and times, but it was hot as Hades and the pool cafe was packed. Just to clear a few things up, God’s preferred pronoun is He, but He was totally cool with the whole LGBTQ spectrum. He did not have long gossamer hair or a flowing robe, and actually was a dead ringer for Seth Rogen except a little older, and He was wearing a Tommy Bahama shirt with cargo shorts and Teva sandals. Not sure how fiery His eyes were because He wore mirrored Ray-Bans the whole time. He did have an aura about Him and it’s fair to say His presence was commanding, but He chewed with His mouth open and bits of food flying around made Him seem less commanding at times. But my god, it was God!
DB: Good morning, Lord.
God: Hi, you must be Doug. Sorry I’m late, I was on the Stairmaster and lost track of time. The rugby World Cup was on ESPN2.
DB: No problem, Lord. I’m not sure how to address you. Is Lord correct?
God: You can call me God, or just G is fine. Please sit down and for god’s sake stop bowing. I appreciate the props, but the Lord thing is weird. I’m not a British royal.
DB: Okay. Thank you so much for doing this.
God: Of course. My booker loved your pitch, and this beats water aerobics with the wife that’s for sure.
DB: You have a wife?
God: Yup.
DB: The story circulating down here is you and Mary weren’t exactly married. I’m not sure how to ask this, but we thought she was kind of a surrogate mother. The whole immaculate conception thing? Is that all wrong?
God: All of it, and I’m glad for the opportunity to set the record straight. First of all, her name’s not Mary it’s Eunice, and although things did get a little out of hand on the third date, I can assure you we were officially married in time for the conceptions. And the conceptions were not immaculate. Not even close. I’m no biology major, but how the hell would that work?
DB: That is a head scratcher. But conceptions? Plural?
God: Yeah, we have three boys, Matthew who’s the oldest, Jesus, and Felipe.
DB: So, with Jesus it’s the Spanish pronunciation?
God: Yes. I get that it’s fun to say the other way, especially if you tack on H. Christ, but Eunice is Latina and comes from a very traditional family. What’s funny is that his middle name actually is Humberto. Sorry, was.
DB: Okay. This is all pretty confusing. You say was. There’s a school of thought, a pretty big one really, that believes Jesus was resurrected to be with you.
God: You’re kidding, right? I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, but that ain’t one of ’em. Strictly to keep the missus happy though we dye a dozen eggs and eat chocolate bunnies every Easter hoping he’ll show up (giggles).
DB: So, the resurrection didn’t happen, at least not yet, but he was crucified, right?
God: Sadly, yes. Pontius Pilate was a total douchebag and the blasphemy charge was bogus, but it needed to happen because things were heading in the wrong direction, if you catch my drift. And just as an FYI, Eunie and I didn’t choose Jesus to die for your sins. He drew the short straw. Nice kid, and we hated to see it end that way, but fair is fair.
DB: Got it. So, Matty, Felipe, and Jesus. I’m not a baseball buff, but weren’t those the names of three brothers who played in the bigs back in the ’60s and ’70s?
God: Yeah, the Alou boys. I’m their godfather.
DB: Aren’t you everybody’s godfather?
God: I suppose so, but that was different.
DB: Are the other boys with you? I mean your Matty and Felipe?
God: Yeah, they’re playing golf at Doral.
DB: The Blue Monster? Yikes! I hear that’s tough to get on.
God: No kidding. I had to drop names to get them a tee time.
DB: So, it’s just the four of you here on vacation then?
God: No, no, those boys are like rabbits. I don’t even know how many grandkids and great-grandkids I’ve got but we had to book three floors. Took all the rollaways too.
DB: So, big family, huh?
God: Oh, hell yes. Drives Eunie nuts keeping track of birthdays. And it’s frankly the biggest reason I’m not on Facebook. Can you imagine? How many cute pictures of kids can you “like” (air quotes)? Besides, everybody – and I mean everybody – wants to friend me.
DB: So, you’re not big on social media?
God: Nope, but you can follow me on Twitter.
DB: Really?
God: Kidding, Doug.
DB: So, how did you and Eunice meet?
God: Funny story. Peter was out sick and everyone else was on vacation, so I was subbing at the gates. Just between you and me and the fence post, Pete’s a bit of a hypochondriac, so it wasn’t the first time. Anyhoo, I had just waved through the nicest older couple from Florence, looked up from the reservation book, and there’s this Iberian beauty next in line, a real tomato, and she’s up in my grill batting her baby browns. I’m not usually nervous around the ladies, Doug, but I’m telling you this gal had my tongue tied.
DB: I feel you, G.
God: So, she could see I was gobsmacked and just smiled and pointed to her name in the book. I went to check her off and fumbled my pen, and when I lunged to catch it, I snagged a flip-flop on the podium and did a face plant.
DB: Ouch!
God: No, I was fine. It’s cloud nine. But my pride was hurt, so I scrambled up, gave her my best shit-eating grin and said, “How do you like me so far?”
DB: What’d she say?
God: She giggled and winked and said something like I’ll see you around. Totally played me.
DB: You didn’t get her number?
God: No. I mean, I know people who can find people, but I don’t like to pull that string unless I’m pissed off. Or desperate. Anyway, I figured I would see her around.
DB: Again, I’m not sure how to frame this question. People do talk about you being vengeful and whatnot, but you don’t exactly have a reputation as a hound dog.
God: I’m not, Doug, but I get lonely too. I’d been single for a couple of eons, so I was starting to play the universe a little. Is that wrong?
DB: Of course not. So, what happened with Eunice?
God: Well, I bumped into her the very next day at an angel orientation meet-and-greet. What are the odds of that? We had coffee and carrot cake and one thing led to another, and you know the rest. The punch line is that Eunice had been praying to me for a year to meet Mr. Right and then, boom, after the horse-riding accident she meets me.
DB: Holy shit! Pardon me.
God: Doesn’t bother me, young man. But now that you mention it, could we take a short break?
(to be continued)