I Just Wanted a Donut.

Walking to the counter of the local coffee shop, I experienced the soft tinge of hunger.  “Small coffee?” the barista asked (as is my normal order).

“That would be wonderful," I replied, “and I'll actually take that donut over there as well.”

That’s it. I was not allowed another word. Little did I know that by asking this guy for a donut I would intimate a whole lot more than I ever dreamed possible.

The barista's face contorted, causing me to wonder if I said something wrong, clearly I must have struck a nerve.

“Donut? Why not this bagel?”

Before I could mutter a response, it was too late; the inquisition had begun.

“I suspect your decision to order the donut was racially motivated. Do you hate Jews? I've had my suspicions about you before, but now I'm certain. Under that full head of hair, I bet there's a shaved head dying for this cool fall air to run its contours, you nazi sympathizer!”

Startled by the raucous accusation, I tried to speak up, but again fell victim to the midwest’s quickest draw in this mouth duel.

“Since you have an affinity for all things German, do you also bow to the fathers of higher criticism? Do you deny biblical inerrancy?”

I tried to answer, I promise I did, but a crowd had assembled and they were buzzing, wondering what I had said to earn such a scolding from this young barista. As my mouth opened to retort, he started again.

“If you don’t believe the Scriptures are wholly true, how can you have any objective knowledge of God? You can’t!”

I wanted to agree, but he wouldn’t let me.

“Jesus said that He was the only way to the Father, but since you deny inerrancy, you don’t believe Him. I bet you’re an inclusivist!”

Hold on a second, I thought. What’s going on here? I put my hands up to protest, but to him it was as if I was holding up a card signifying another round in a boxing match (of which I was losing, in case you haven’t been keeping score).

“You are a fan of Karl Rahner, aren’t you?” he interrogated.

Truthfully, I was kind of impressed by his theological prowess.

“From your vantage point, is every atheist just a believer in disguise?”

Was he mocking me? I mean, I’m an M.Div. student and barely know who Karl Rahner is, and this guy is tying him to me.

He dug in some more, “It makes sense, really. I figured you for a liberal Catholic. But even liberal Catholics hate women and homosexuals! That’s why you probably voted against Obama: your racism and disdain for women fueled your hate mongering!”

At this point, there were probably ten people in line, and twenty mobbing around me. By means of whispers, they were filling in the newcomers on the breadth of my leanings. Then round three commenced.

“What do you think about the Affordable Care Act?”

I was trying to trace the conversation back to the beginning in hopes of figuring out how in the world we ended up on healthcare reform. I attempted to draw a mental map but pictured a map of Middle Earth instead. Then, in lieu of defending myself, I thought of those memes where Boromir says, “One does not simply _____,” which caused me to smile. Big mistake.

“Oh, you think healthcare for indigent people is funny?”

I felt this question was rhetorical, so my silence here was voluntary.

“I bet you’re one of those people who couldn’t care less if the marginalized are denied coverage due to preexisting conditions because you’re more concerned about saving $100 a month on your own premium.”

So there I was, an inclusive sympathizer of the Aryan nation who denies inerrancy under the umbrella of liberal Catholicism, while propagating my right-wing views from my Republican hate machine, stomping on any who get in my way (especially marginalized minorities), as I attempt to extinguish the fires of the feminist and homosexual movements, all because I ordered a donut for breakfast…

Note to self: Don’t leave the house.

[This is the satirical musing of a productive procrastinator and is not based on real life events.]