A Priest Walks Into A Bar: Dialogues

The other night was the installation of a new WM at wonderful Victoria Columbia Lodge #1, chartered in 1858. The building is exactly what you get when a bunch of 19th Century millionaires decide to make a space for ritual and symbolism. The banquet was quite toney, with the men all a-penguined and the women sparkly as the bystanders of the Linda Evans Wardrobe Trailer Explosion of 1982. I of course went in drag (that's Priest-speak for clerical attire), and met up with a few friends from the local tattoo shop who were having their staff bash at a seedy bar immediately after the shindig. So a Priest walks into a bar...

Bar Girl: So, are you a real fucken Priest?

Me: We don't usually phrase it that way.

Later...

Very Wasted and Scary Armed Forces Sniper on Leave from Afghanistan: You a real fucken Priest?

Me: Turns out.

VWASAFSOLFA: S'all bullshit.

Me: I'm sorry?

VWASAFSOLFA: S'all bullshit. I don't believe in anything.

Me: Me either. You're right, it's all bullshit.

VWASAFSOLFA: Huh. Well you're a Priest...

Me: Right. It's not about what you believe, it's about what's real, and where you put your life; magic, art, joy, charity, sex, truth, beauty. Rising above the bullshit. Getting PAST the fact that it's all bullshit. Who you are. What you do about it.

VWASAFSOLFA: Huh. [pauses] Huh. Y'all right. S'good. That's cool. [turns to buddy] This guy's cool. THIS GUY!... IS COOL. Awright...