Well, if you don’t work here, maybe you need a new profession

A few days ago, my older sister Mag and I stopped at a Catholic Chapel to procure some holy water (which we planned to inflict upon the homes of unsuspecting relatives.)
My sister said every church has a Holy Water Font with a spigot (think Coors Party Ball) where anyone could tank up on Holy Water at no cost. Now, I am someone who sees the word “Free” and take as much as possible…unless the word “Free” is followed by the word “HIV virus” or “Herpes” or “pregnant female cat”.
But I digress…
Well, in this church, we couldn’t find that font of eternal salvation. Just as we were about to leave and look for another[free Holy Water filled] church, a priest walks past. I assumed he was a priest, since he was wearing a long cassock (look it up, heathens) and a clerical collar. A bit unsettling was the Adidas gym bag he was carrying’ but hey, it’s a free country, and the Mouthpiece of God IS entitled to carry any kind of tote he wishes…unless it has “Highway to Hell” silkscreened on it. Or maybe the lyrics to “Blurred Lines”, both of which are true signs of Satanic worship.
But again, I digress.
He hurried past us, but I stopped him with a stern “Sir!”–yes it’s been THAT long since I’ve been a Catholic. It worked though. He turned and said “Can I help you?”, but kept glancing at the “Exit” sign by the entrance.
“Can you tell us where the Holy Water is?”, asked my sister who is oh so Catholic and innocent, although she, in her younger day, smoked more pot and did unmentionable things with other pot smokers than I could have possibly dreamed of doing. And I was quite the party girl back in the day. That says a lot.
Digression, part III…
The priest replied, ” I’m sorry, I don’t work here.”
Feel free to disagree, but I’ve always assumed that a priest, regardless of where “he works”, would know where to get Holy Water. He would also know where to post banns for a marriage or where the closest Planned Parenthood Picketfest is being held. Luckily for us, we weren’t looking for those. Just some @#$5$@&^ Holy Water.
Then he walked away.
A theological question: If someone surreptitiously poured the Holy Water from the little fonts hanging at the entrance into a Tupperware bowl, is that considered stealing? And if so, does that negate the Mojo associated with the Holy Water? Because that’s just what we did. We were kind-hearted enough to leave a little in the bottom of font. Heaven help us if a devout Catholic dipped their fingers into the font and found it dry, condemning them to hellfire and damnation.
On our [suspiciously hurried] way out of the church, we discussed the behavior of the the priest. My sister said he was probably just visiting, stopping by to touch base with the Holy Trinity before venturing on to his new parish (probably located in Tuthill, SD, which is known to be the foremost Den of Iniquity of the central plains). I said, and I still say, he was a burglar, carrying the tools of his burglary trade in that gymbag, and had just robbed the votive candles and collection plates of hundreds, if not thousands, of pennies.
so…what say you?