the 'e' stands for 'enough already...'

i have this habit on sundays of going to church. for the most part, i'm tuned in to what's going on around me. a lot of the the times, though, i'm gawking ("oooh! look at the shiny lights!") or, about an hour in, i'm hitting the indiglo button on my timex, gesturing my thumb toward the pastor and muttering to my husband, "do you get this guy?"

however, i have reason to believe god really does have a purpose for me. i believe he wants me to realize that my spiritual life is one that will put me on a straighter path to heaven. because honestly, i've seen hell, and i really don't want to chart out my eternity there.

"oh. you've seen hell, have you? pray tell, what's it like, little girl?" you're probably saying.

well, i can tell you that hell is loud. there really is a lot of screaming and tearing at bodies. and you'd naturally assume hell would be dark, but i'm here to tell you that it's not. despite being a cavernous hole, hell is illuminated by bright and glaring lights, and punctuated by sirens and bad music.

and germs. you just know hell is crawling with germs because you'll look around every once in awhile (they make you do that in hell, btw, because you never want to lose track of the person you're there with. you must always have a partner in hell) and you'll see people licking things that shouldn't be licked. running their hands across dripping noses. you'll cringe, but trust me, if germy mcgermeson sees you cringing as they smear snot across their face, they'll just laugh and maybe dig in for more. because they see that look of horror on your face. oh yes. they see it and counter it with a contorted squeal that can't be stopped by snot bubbles.

and there is always snot bubbles.

oh, they feed you in hell, too, but don't expect it to be good. if it were good, you'd never want to leave and truly, leaving should be the only goal you have.

so how do you know when you've reached hell?

when you see this:

ok, i know it's pretty cliche to put down chuck e. cheese (to "cut the cheese," as the case may be if the case was i was a 12 year old boy, and if it were, i'd toss in an armpit fart for good measure just to drive the case home), but seriously, i can think of no other god forsaken institute worthy of it.

so here's my question. when you apply for a job at chuck e. cheese - because who wouldn't want to pimp plastic bugs and fake teeth that cost a penny to make but forces parents to spend upwards of $50 to make their kid stop crying at the skee ball game - does the fact that the manager tells you you will have to dance in front of groups of crazed preschoolers and their zombified parents while singing some version of "happy birthday" 27 times a day not turn you off? is the $6 an hour you pull down enough for you to toss your pride out the back door so you can either support your drug habit or your kid?

because it wouldn't be for me.

mostly because my singing is reserved for my own kitchen, where little children can't mock me (though sometimes, my preschooler does get pretty ballsy).

apparently, the staff at the chuck e. cheese i'm blessed enough to frequent (last year - three times in one week! thank you, preschool birthday parties!), the staff there doesn't seem to mind because they apparently have some alleged issues that require that paycheck. our chuck e. cheese is nothing short of a quentin tarantino movie, which should, in essence, make it fun and come complete with a pretty kick ass soundtrack and a cameo by bruce willis ("zed's dead, baby. zed's dead...but not this half pepperoni, half sausage speciality you ordered! enjoy folks!").

when i returned home from chuck's place last wednesday, i perched myself at my kitchen counter, opened up that morning's newspaper and was hit with a headline declaring "chuck e. cheese's manager faces meth charges." according the the register account from the police report, "the manager of a restaurant that caters to children was arrested saturday for allegedly assaulting two employees and was later charged with possession of methamphetamine. police arrested chuck e. cheese's manager geoff willson of west des moines after another employee of the store, 1431 22nd st., said willson pushed her out of the way when he wanted to get by, a police report said. willson allegedly threatened and assaulted another woman at the restaurant, but she did not want to press charges. police noticed willson was jittery during initial talks, and an officer found a bag containing methamphetamine in his patrol car after taking willson to jail, the report said. willson later admitted the drugs were his."

i figure this explains why there were three jehovah witness boys in their nice suits there while our party commenced. and here i just thought they were there for the wack-a-mole game they were getting strangely into. however, i'm pretty sure it doesn't figure into why my slice of taco pizza still tasted like crap.

you'd think this would be enough madness for the big cheese this past week, but no. oh, no, my friends. perhaps you saw a little blurb picked up by the associated press (it was apparently all over newspapers and television news) last monday when a deer crashed through the window of another area chuck e. cheese. no one was hurt, and two men dining in the establishment jumped on top of the deer and held it down until employees from the state department of natural resources arrived and were able to retrieve the deer, also unhurt, and release it.

undoubtedly, the deer must not have realized the above mentioned manager was not scheduled to work that day and it's quest to obtain the devil dust for it's woodland friends was sorely thwarted. damn deer is probably out there now, wandering in the forest, shaky and strung out, eyeing the semis whizzing by on the interstate like death's sweet mistress.

if it takes that leap, i only hope it ends up in some sweet animal heaven, because truly, i've been to hell, and the only animal there is some giant, matted fur rodent dressed like will smith from the "fresh prince" days.

and none of us wants to be there. trust me.* i suggest you pay attention the next time you go to church, if you go to church, and pray about that. i know i did today. and then i glanced at my watch, poked my husband, and said, "seriously! do you get this guy?!"

* unless you're prepared to have me kick your ass at skee ball. or muster up a snot bubble...