Stacey's journal reminded me of something

This is a true story from my life. (scuse the cross-posting)

So I had a friend when I was a baby dyke first living in Chicago who had just gotten kicked out of a fundie university just outside of Chicago for being queer. She and I were leaving the building we were living in, (oh so fondly referred to by AJ as Jonestown North. . . but that's a whole other story) when the receptionist flagged me down to tell me I had a call. I ducked into the office to take it. By the time I walked out maybe a minute later, Kristin was nowhere to be seen. I kept walking back and forth in front of the building looking for her. . . worried that her naieve little blond self had gotten into an altercation or something when I saw her round the corner. She looked pissed, and I asked her where she'd disappeared.

She told me that she hadn't heard the receptionist tell me I had a call and had gotten about half a block up the street when she realized suddenly I wasn't there. She thought the rapture had come, and my big fat heathen self had been taken up to heaven, and she had been left behind.

I, of course, coming from a family of agnostics (one generation methodist removed) had to actually ask her what the rapture was.

Thus endeth my first lesson in religious damage.