A young, sane-looking woman stopped me on the street, looking like she needed directions. “Excuse me,” she said, reaching toward my arm to show she was talking to me. “I wanted to ask if you had ever heard of God’s mother?”
She had a lisp. Or it’s possible she was actually asking if I had ever heard of “God the mother,” the way you hear, “God the father,” in a prayer or something.
I thought I had misunderstood. “I’m sorry?”
“God’s mother, from the Bible?”
I cut her off: “Oh, I’m not interested.”
That was a close one.
