In Which I Have An Interesting Roadside Encounter

So today I was driving around aimlessly in Renton looking for a notary so that I could get one of our eight bazillion (I got my degree in English, so I'm allowed to use imaginary words) pieces of paperwork for the adoption stamped, and of course I'd set out with this idea that since Renton wasn't that big a town, surely I could find one by wandering around until I stumbled upon a Kinko's or UPS or something.  Not surprisingly, this wasn't working out so well. 

Since it was a relatively nice day, all of the gas stations in the area had stands set up in the parking lots selling various things-- mostly seasonal fruit and rugs of dubious quality.  I kept passing these things every other block or so, and I wasn't paying too much attention to them since none of the stands seemed to be equipped with handy notaries.  At any rate I was well past the downtown and on my way to Seattle when I saw it-- a nondescript gas station with a red roof and a stand outside.  I must have slowed down to half the speed limit just to savor the feeling of incredulous disbelief.

They were selling Jesus.

Really-- instead of cherries or rugs or shoddy knock-off purses, they were selling three foot high resin statues of Our Lord and Savior decked out in various improbable, though festive (did they make fluorescent lime-green dye back then?) colors of robes.  The occasional Mary or St. Francis was thrown in for variety, but mostly it was All Jesus, All the Time.  Whoever cast the original mold had obviously been going for the traditional "Jesus Teaching" pose but had ended up instead with the rather offbeat Maneki Neko pose.  Also Jesus' nose appeared to have gone on a pilgrimage and was currently hanging out under His left eye, giving Him a sort of Picasso-like feel.

I swear I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

So the question I have is, who the heck buys Gas Station Jesus?  And if you did decide to buy said extremely inexpensive knockoff statue of the Son of God, where would He then ride in your car if all of the seats were full?  I mean, you couldn't exactly throw Him in the trunk-- it would seem rather irreverent.  The same goes for riding on the floorboards.  Perhaps you could strap him to the roof and he could bestow his benevolence on your fellow commuters, or at least prevent them from tailgating.  I would imagine the possibility of having a three-foot high resin statue of the Son of God hurtling through your windshield at 60 miles an hour would probably have that effect.

At any rate, I finally found a notary after a very patient friend painstakingly walked me through some extremely convoluted directions that involved a street which changed its name four times and other such shenanigans, and we headed back home.  Though it was hard, I managed to restrain myself from driving back by that station and picking up a Gas Station Jesus of my very own.  Not only did I not have any place to put Him, but my cat Loki already attempts to eat our much smaller baby Jesus every year when we get out the nativity set, and I just know that bringing home one that size would trigger a horrific and messy tragedy that would not only be borderline sacrilegious given my prior knowledge of the likely results, but would also end in me cleaning out fluorescent lime-green cat poop for two weeks. 

And who wants to do that?

~Jess