Thread by @SittingByTheSea

My wife talked me into a thing at the Cathedral tonight. Took the boys too. Thought it was carols. Turned out to be hymns.

The location should have been a clue. There was God talk between hymns. Lots of standing up and sitting down again. As atheists it wasn’t really our bag. Lots of others enjoying though, which is nice.

Got kind of trapped amongst the happy worshipers and had to try and find a polite and subtle moment escape. Wasn’t easy as we had baby, 4yr and wet weather gear to put on.

Can’t go when the place is deadly quite and people are intently listening to (and thoroughly enjoying) psalm 7 of the book of Eric (or something).
Can’t go when the young choir are singing. (Seemed a bit rude/disparaging and didn’t want to put them off).

While I was hatching a plan (and trying to explain it to my wife and 4yr old, using sign language), we had to stand for Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem.

I had to put my plan on hold at this point. To my surprise, my wife started singing. I didn’t want to blow our cover so had to join in. At least everyone knows this tune, right?

WRONG.
This was some sort of crazy remix (possibly to catch atheists out). I immediately stopped singing and took up a respectful silence, a bit like Corbyn did here, only I looked even more respectful ✊

My wife, on the other hand, tried to combat the unknown tune using increased volume. I found it difficult to concentrate on being respectful while she did this. Luckily she gave up half way through verse two and decided to mime.

No ordinary miming though 🙁

Head wobbling, X-Factor Diva miming. To be honest, the effect was less X-Factor Diva and more Party Conference Redwood. ☹️

(As an aside, if you need a better understanding of Party Conference Redwood miming, here’s the clip.)

Anyway... The song went on, and on.....and on. At last it finished and we could sit down. A religious man took the microphone and treated us to some quiet nativity musings. It was during this, 4yr old slipped my phone out of my coat pocket.

The acoustics of cathedrals are indeed impressive. The sound of Power Rangers Dino Charge carries a long long way. Further even than a quiet man’s religious musings.

Considering I was deep in contemplation over the ins and outs of maternity care provision in turn of the millennium Bethlehem, I moved VERY quickly. Too quickly perhaps.

Instead of smoothly grabbing the phone I proceeded to knock it out of his hand. It slid under the seats in front of us and continued its journey along the hard marble floor to the row in front of that. The Power Rangers continued to loudly battle the evil Sledge for an Energem.

Do you know what the ‘Christians’ did when the phone came to rest at their feet?

Nothing. Jack Shit. Diddly Squat.

They ignored it.
I had to make my way down my row, along the central aisle, down the other row, kneel between them and fish blindly for the phone, using only the sound of Tyler and Shelby’s war cries as guidance.

Time to blow this joint. We waited until the next loud bit and made our way towards the exit. I had already scoped the guy accepting collection money so had taken a pound from my wife’s purse in readiness for a polite and smooth exit.

My wife, ahead of me now, bowed to the guy holding the collection plate. (Unusual, right?).

I took the pound from my pocket and placed it on the plate. For a reason I can’t fathom (ask a psychologist) I also bowed.

The collection guy looked thoroughly unimpressed with my bow. Unusually unimpressed I thought.
We left. Out into the cool welcoming rain. As we stood in the arch of the grand door, composing ourselves, my wife looked into her purse, then at me, then back to her purse.

“You gave him my trolley token, you fuckwit.”