I was going to just quote some article on humanistic environmental ethics over the old morality model, but honestly, it is really boring. Anyway, I talked to a good friend of mine who is about to enter in this online writing contest, and I admire that alot. I figured maybe in some kind of cock-eyed honor to him, I'd post one of my old stories. Who knows, it could make me regret that I haven't written something new, myself. Wish good luck to my friend.

Writing so long, I’d gone through my whole pack of smokes. Of course, I had to smoke my last Marby a little after midnight. You know how it is, trying to find somewhere that’s open to buy cigs at that hour in this town. Especially somewhere open at that hour in my part of town. Forget about it. Might as well go hunting for the Holy Grail. But, did I need my nicotine death cylinders, man, and so did the quest thus begin.

I wandered for hours. Okay, maybe just forty-five minutes. I’m telling you, they need to rename those places as inconvenience stores. Not one open, not a single liquor store, and not even a damn 7-11. All the way to the top of the hill on Van Ness, up and down those streets. Not a real nice part of town, if you know what I mean. Found a lot of kinds of nothing. Only thing I found was how much faster you can walk when you’re sure that guy at the corner is sizing you up for a rather rude withdrawal from your personal mobile funds. So I cut back toward Van Ness, feeling defeated in my task of shaking hands with Old Saint Nic.

So I spot this quiet hole-in-the-wall bar off the narrow alley. Wham. Bing. Light goes on in my head. Sometimes in the old bars, the bartender sells smokes. Mind you, they mark up the price to somewhere between “you have got to be kidding” and “where do I sign over my firstborn.” But, hey, I figured was worth a shot. I walked in through those corny old-style padded red vinyl doors and passed under the flickering neon sign of the place. I’ll always remember that joint’s name. “Ain’t Life Divine?” I swear, that was the name of the bar!

Sure, it was a dive, but there was something real different about the club. Something real unusual. Think the first sign was the bartender. I walked up to the bar, ready to ask if he had cigarettes for sale. First thought it had to be a trick of the light. When the bartender turned to ask me what I’ll have, I see the guy has a glowing halo of golden light around his head. You know like they painted on those medieval church windows and icons. I’m telling you, he really had the face that looked like of those Christian saints! Being Jewish myself, hell if I knew which one. Emanating some inner holiness, he takes my money and slides down a pack of cigs. Asks me if I want anything else, I shake my head no less to say no but to hopefully shake out the hallucinations from hitting my word processor for way too long. Dude had to be some kind of saint, as he sure made a miracle. Only charged me two bucks for the smokes.

So I light my first cigarette in hours, and just try to figure why I’m not freaking. I call for a shot of whiskey from the beatified bartender, down the shot, and look around at more holy cats surrounding me in that bar. All these guys glowing with transcendent sacredness, on a totally high plane of existence, but just sitting at tables and milling around the bar while nursing beers, joking around, and doing all that kind of normal guys-in-a-bar stuff. I mean, I took a long drag on my Marby as I watched Krishna beat Mohammed at darts. I was in the presence of more spirit made flesh than I could fathom, and all I could bring myself to do was call for another shot of Jack.

Over the rim of the glass, I see some guys sitting around a private table set off more to the back. Pretty normal for these old-school bars. Just three old regulars playing cards privately. Name of the game seemed to be Hearts. What wasn’t so normal was the regulars happened to be Vishnu, Buddha, and the Big Guy of the West, God. Probably wondering how I knew who they were so quickly. Hard to miss the illuminating golden aura around the Enlightened One, sitting on a chair dusted with flower petals. Plus he wasn’t that jolly fat baldy you see while waiting for your Chinese takeout, but the righteous thin man like in the Indian temples. Think the four arms, and the flaming cosmic glow gave away Vishnu pretty quickly. That, and he was actually sitting on a floating lotus bloom hovering over the sawdust-covered floor. You know Michelangelo got the Supreme Cheese’s face right? Long beard, glowering paternal eyes, and the whole thing. Heavenly light shone down and bathed Jehovah as he shuffled the deck of cards.

Then HE looked at me. Yeah, Mr. Most High gazing right at me! And then the Celestial CEO actually waved me over to the private table, gesturing to the an empty chair right across from Him. God says to me, “We need a fourth for hearts. Why not join in?” So, I did. God dealt out the cards, real slick and practiced. Buddha and Vishnu played it all silent, putting on real heavy game faces for divine manifestations. Cards go down, next round gets dealt, and we play a few hands. It was pretty good. But I can now say that it was hard the first time I had to slam the most nasty Queen of Spades on the transcendent embodiment of universal love and compassion. But, I got over it. Stuck Vishnu a round or two later with ease. Considering the gang around me, I was real surprised that nothing profound was said by then, and even the usual banter was light. But who was I to try to comprehend these deified powers, the real sacred cats behind three major world religions. Could have been four, but no way was I gonna be the one to ask God how his kid was doing.

Anyway, don’t know if they made it so they closed down some of their cosmic senses, since I did manage to come out on top in a few rounds. Still I had more points than I wished I did, only losing more to Vishnu. After a few more hands, I couldn’t help myself. I had to say or ask something. I cleared my throat loudly and asked, “Well, I gotta ask what’s the meaning of it all? You know, me, being a mere mortal, wouldn’t mind knowing from you what’s up with this whole life thing?” The Hyper-holy Trio just smile all big and knowing at each other, like They had know I’d ask sooner or later. Course, hello, they would know I was gonna ask that sooner or later. Duh!

Not getting any quick answer, I took up the cards, and dealt out the next round. Vishnu doesn’t look up or around with any of His faces as he holds the hand in two hands and arranged the cards with two other hands. Buddha looked like he’s meditating on what to do with his hand. Finally, God flicked the two of clubs down, and said, “This sounds more like Buddha’s turf, but this is about it.” I blinked some, and asked, “What, playing cards?” The three divine beings nod to each other and then to me. We kept playing through, totally quiet. Well, except for Vishnu asking Buddha to change his karma so he could stop getting deal such lousy cards.

Soon enough, the canonized barkeep shouted out last call, and I knew I should get going back home. I did make sure to buy another pack of smokes. Buddha took the last hand. I stood up, slipped on my jacket, and lit one more cig. Vishnu harmoniously chimed, “Good game. Good game, gentlemen.” Buddha nodded in agreement. Having shot the moon in one of the last rounds, God came out on top with the least points. God stroked his celestial facial carpet, “First time I’ve won in a few weeks, I believe.” To which, I replied, “Well, you win some and you lose some, but it’s all cool as long as you enjoyed the game.”

And I swear that as I turned to exit that old bar, those most transcendent threesome grin from ear to ear and winked at me. Profound, huh?