My Conversation with the Big Guy in the Sky


by Joe Buonfiglio

ME: “Um.  Well.  Uh, hello.”

HIM: “Hello.”

ME: “I’m sorry, but I’m not really sure about protocols and etiquette when it comes to conversations with deities.”

HIM: “Relax.  You don’t have to say you’re sorry.  Anyway, My Son — who was Me in corporeal form but an Entity unto Himself — already died for your sins.”

“Wow.  So we’re going for it right out of the gate.  Okay.  Then what You’re saying is that the Christian viewpoint of religion is the correct one.”

“No.  No, I’m not.”

“So one of the other world religions has it right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Wait a minute.  They can’t ALL be right.”

“I didn’t say that either.  Look, would you like some tea?”

Okay, so God didn’t offer to wash my feet, but tea was nice.  I just wasn’t in the mood for it.

“No thanks,” I responded trying to look grateful.  “But I’ll take a beer if you got one.”

“I’m not big on beer.  Wine work for you?”

“Sorry, God.  I’m not really a wine guy.  You do know I’m straight, right?”

“Please.  Of course, I do.  Well, you’re straight for the moment.  There will be that drunken Halloween party four years from now that will call all that into question.”

“Right.  The whole omniscient thing.  You know everyth—  Hey, what?!  What did you just say?”

“Nothing.  So, Earl Grey was it?”

I started to wonder if God is a cheeky bastard.

“No,” I said mentally questioning everything I thought I knew about myself, “but I’ll take a shot of Irish whiskey if you have it.”

“You’re a Jameson’s man, right?”

“Yeah.  How’d You know that?”

God grimaced at me.

“Oh,” I responded with a smirk of embarrassment as would a called-upon schoolboy forgetting a just-revealed answer in class, “right.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you have Me confused with the Roman god Bacchus.”

“Sorry.  Tea will be fine.”

“Tea it is then.”

While he put the kettle on, I saw my chance to catch Him off-guard with some really big-ticket serious Shit-of-the-Ages stuff.

“God,” I inquired in what I hoped was a sheepishly appropriate humble tone, “why do we exist?  What is the meaning of life?”

Yes, Virginia,” He calmly responded without ever looking up from the tea biscuits and scones he meticulously arranged on a plate. “There is a Santa Claus.”

“What?  I didn’t ask that.  And who the hell is Virginia?”

“For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

“While I appreciate that — I think — that isn’t really what I asked.”

“A penny saved is a penny earned.”

“Okay, now You’re just fucking with me.”

“Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.”

“That’s Buddha!  Now You’re plagiarizing Buddha?!”

“One lump or two?”

God hovered over me with a cup of tea and a bowl of sugar cubes.

“One lump or two?” the Ultimate of Ultimates repeated.

“None.  I’ll take it straight … LIKE ME!  STRAIGHT!”

“If you say so,” God mumbled with a smile. “If.  You.  Say so.”

“Look,” I said a little annoyed at His toying with my sexual identity, “on behalf of all Humanity, I just want to know why in all that’s holy would You—  ARE YOU TAKING A SELFIE?!”


“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not.”

“Bullshit!  You were totally taking a selfie.  You put down my teacup, slipped Your smartphone out of the pocket of Your robe and took a—   YOU DID IT AGAIN!  YOU JUST TOOK ANOTHER ONE!”


“So?  SO?!  So I represent Humankind’s one chance to ask the Supreme Creator how it all works and you blow me off to post on Your Facebook page?!  I know You’re the Alpha and Omega and all that, but a little common courtesy would be nice.”

“Chill out, man.  I’m a multitasker from way back.  The original multitasker, you might say.  I can do shit all at once on a number of interdimensional planes of reality of which you cannot even conceive.  It’s all this existing outside of time and space stuff; very useful.”

All right, am I being played for a fool here?  He’s using misdirection better than a Las Vegas magician.

“So come on,” I said to the Big Guy in the Sky, “fess up.  Which religion in the world has it right?”

“The Atheists.”

“What?  How the hell can You — YOU — stand before me and say the Atheists have it right?  That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“I swear my head feels like it’s going to blow clean off my shoulders.”

“I can make that happen if you think it will do any good.  Ever see the movie Scanners?  I love that film.”

“You sure You don’t have any whiskey tucked away back there in the clouds for, like, medicinal purposes?  Come on.  You telling me You couldn’t use a quick shot when Lucifer starts acting up?”

“I get it.  You’re confused.  I have that effect on people.  It’s all an existential paradox.  These things happen.”

“THESE THINGS HAPPEN?!  God tells me the Atheists — the folks who think God doesn’t exist — have the right idea about God and that’s all You have to offer?  ‘Paradox’ doesn’t begin to describe it.  It’s a goddamn existential crisis, that’s what it is!”

“Okay, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.  I’m freaking out here.”

“Here.  Put this wet washcloth on the back of your neck.  A cold compress will do you a world of good right now.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“I shit you not.  How about we also put a cool towel on your forehead?”

Risking being wiped out of existence for my disrespectfully childlike insubordination, I slapped the small towel out of His hands.

“All right,” I said with the determination of someone who actually believes in Self-Determination, “I’m done with the mind games.  Which religion has it right?!”

God looked down at His shuffling feet for a moment, and then simply responded “I plead the Fifth.”

“WHAT?  You can’t plead the Fifth.  You’re not an American.  You’re God!  The US Constitution doesn’t apply to you!”

“Rock the vote.”

“Rock the—  What the fuck are You talking about?!”

“Let Me leave you with this—”

“Oh no You don’t.  We’re not done here!”

“Yes.  We are.  And remember, it’s never too early to start planning for that gay-pride parade.  The rainbow-colored fabric goes fast.”

“Oh, goddamn it.”

“Was that a request?”

See, this is why I’m an Agnostic.

“I heard that.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“No, but you thought it.”

I sighed deeply in defeat.

Intelligent Design, my ass,” I blurted out just before being whisked back to my sleazy little apartment in front of my wheezing old laptop in my gin-soaked world.  “You’re a madman!”

“Exactly, Joe,” he uttered with a devilish smile.  “Exactly.”

 © 2014 Joseph P. Buonfiglio     All Rights Reserved.

Sin título-1Picture1twitter-button

7 thoughts on “6 MINUTES WITH GOD

  1. Nice one, Joe! Ever seen Steambath by Bruce Jay Friedman? In the film version, Bill Bixby is asking many of the same questions with similarly humorous results. The film is highly recommended (if a bit difficult to find), by the way for all fans of the absurd, who are essentially people seeking answers to seemingly ridiculous questions, like why are we here and who’s got it right.

  2. avatar Lisa Padilla-Gil says:

    I loved this! Your writing is just amazing……….I love the interruptions, how your mind just goes from one topic to the next but you still stay focused on whatever it is you’re talking about. YOU ARE GREAT!!!! So, here’s my thought on “6 Minutes with GOD”….just the fact that you’re having a conversation with someone you don’t believe exists is pretty awesome, you’re thinking, trying to find answers to questions that scholars spend their entire life looking for. JUST GO WITH IT JOE…..He doesn’t owe us an answer, either you believe or you don’t. He’s not going to punish us one way or the other. No religion is going to get it right. You just have to love your neighbor and all those other Commandments (AKA common sense). If there is no life after death, so be it, who cares? The bottom line is we should all be watching each other’s backs and supporting each other and if Christians or Jews or Muslims or whoever need to believe in God in order to do those things, it’s good for everyone.

    I look forward to your writing, I am thrilled to be included and I pray (yes I do) that you will find rest and peace and get a good night’s sleep. Keep blowing our minds…………XOXOXO

    • Thanks, Lisa. I always appreciate such supportive replies with such thoughtful critique. However, by “… just the fact that you’re having a conversation with someone you don’t believe exists …” shows you think I am an Atheist. I am not an Atheist. I am a true Agnostic. An Atheist is sure God does not exist. An Agnostic does not know whether or not God exists (and believes that you cannot know for sure either). Additionally, the Agnostic tends to believe that if God does exist, He/She/It probably will not do so in the manner to which any of the world religions ascribe.

      Just a quick point of clarity for a misconception about Agnostics.

      Thank you, too, for your prayers with regard to my finding “rest and peace and get a good night’s sleep.” As my angels and my demons derive from the same Muse, writing and sleep are often at odds.

      And yes, hopefully, more blowing of minds is en route.

Go ahead and leave a reply. What the hell, right?