Voices of the martyrs

I hope you don't feel abandoned, but the Christian persecution was especially fierce late last week at Conchita's Unisex Beauty Palace. I never thought I would say this, but the dreaded remodel is now officially over as of Thursday, and as part of the grand unveiling, Chris, one of the radical homosexual hairstylists, put a placard reading "We reserve the right to make you... Fabulous!" (with fabulous printed in some rococo lettering best reserved for a Reno bordello) at his chair. Naturally I was Outraged, and after pouting quietly with my arms folded across my chest for half the day, I expressed my misgivings to Conchita about this legal abomination.

Despite liberals' professed devotion to the Bill of Rights, they are deeply ignorant of what it actually says, so I had to give Conchita a crash-course in Constitutional Law: "The Bill of Rights only grants us two significant freedoms: The right to be Christian and the right to carry firearms. All the following amendments are but faint echoes of these two, and they grow weaker the further down the list you go. I don't know where this right to fabulousness comes from, but I suspect it springs from that same penumbra that gave us the 'right' to kill your unborn children or become homosexuals. Quite frankly, I don't see why you just didn't turn this place into an abortion clinic."

The stylist in question has had it out for me ever since I let it slip to one of my coworkers that I was praying for him to leave his chosen lifestyle before he got AIDS and infected the rest of us. He managed to twist this act of Christian charity into the usual leftist claim of hydrophobia and has been an especially vehement opponent of Faith in the workplace ever since. "Check it, Tammy Faye," he said while snapping his fingers in my face, "Not everything is a slam against your stupid religion. Why don't just get over it already?" As if I'd be getting over anything anytime soon!

I summoned as much professional comportment as I could muster and informed both him and Conchita that I knew a Liberty Counsel lawsuit when I saw one, and that if the offending sign wasn't removed, I would contact Jerry Falwell personally. Conchita said I could handle it however I saw fit, as long as I wasn't making long distance calls from the company phone, and then proceeded on some irrelevant tangent about $40 worth of unexplained charges showing up on last month's phone bill. I told her to deduct it from my settlement and spent the rest of the day with an eye on the clock. I sprang out of there at 5:30.

Evidently they hadn't quite sated their appetite for Christian flesh, because Friday was just as bad. The sign is still there, but that was the least of my problems. My Friday morning dilemma is to find something suitable for the Beauty Palace as well as any happy hour protests I may be attending afterwards, and I've found my "He is Risen! Matthew 28:6" shirt and matching capris to fit the bill quite nicely. Conchita claimed "a number" of her clients have commented on the shirt, and produced a copy of the dress code saying that apparel with conspicuous lettering is not permitted. I could have sworn there was a religious exemption somewhere in there, but wasn't ready to delve into the Animal Farm-like way Conchita revised the employee manual after yesterday's bloodletting. She must have sensed my weakness (Sorry, Lord!), so I agreed to keep my jacket on so as not to remind the non-believers that they were going to Hell.

After the weekend, I'm tanned, rested & relaxed, and ready to take the worst these heathens can dish out. I also found out that the only place hiring right now that I'm qualified for is Third Degree Tanning Salon, and they pay even less than the Beauty Palace. So pray for your Sister Nancy Beth, Christians, that she might have the fortitude to slay these mighty demons. Praise Him!