Today at work I asked one of the fill-in girls what she was studying. They looked like flash cards of some sort, laminated with brightly coloured writing.
Turns out they were the promises of God from the Bible or some such nonsense. I was speechless for a few seconds, mumbled that my grandfather had been a preacher and I'd had a fairly religious upbringing, which is true enough. I went to Sunday School every week until Mum's church banned gambling.
Anyway we continued working, had breaks, the usual stuff. As I'm leaving she pipes up from behind the Espresso machine 'Michael? Would you like to come to church?'
Yeah, I just sorta sheepishly said no, that's not my thing, then hurried the hell out of there. Even forgot to get this week's street press on my way out. Fucken hell. This is what I get for being vaguely accommodating to people.