It was an ordinary Thursday at the grocery store, up until the part where I met God in aisle seven.
He was just buying some milk. Apparently He was running low.
When I saw him there, sifting through the two percent, checking the expiration dates, I simply knew who He was. He was God. Simple as that. Naturally, I walked up to him.
“Hello,” He said cheerily.
“Uh, hey,” I responded hesitantly.
He smiled to me. “How are you today?”
I wasn’t really sure how to answer. “Fine,” I decided.
“Are you sure?” God chuckled.
“Well you would know, wouldn’t you?” I challenged.
He laughed. “I suppose that’s a good point. Do you know which aisle the bagels are in?”
“Shouldn’t you know that, too?” I frowned.
God smiled again. “I’m just being polite.”
“What are you doing in a grocery store? Do you really need any of this?” His shopping cart was filled with snacks, microwave dinners, breakfasts. It all looked so ordinary.
“A god has to eat too,” He shrugged.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you sure?” He questioned. “Do you know anything about me?”
I put my hands on my hips and thought for a moment. Did I know anything about Him? “You’re supposed to be all-powerful and all-knowing, aren’t you?”
God shook his head, but he didn’t say no. Instead he said, “People have such high expectations of me. Even God can run out of milk.”
“But if you’re God, can’t you just poof some more into existence?”
“And miss out on a trip to the grocery store? I think not. Every once in awhile, I like to come here and see what people are selling. This sort of place has changed a good deal over the past few centuries.”
“I imagine it has,” I agreed. “Can you pass me the milk in the front, on the bottom?”
God reached down, but he said, “No, no, you want this one.” He took the gallon behind it and handed that to me.
I didn’t question it for an instant.
“The syrup is in aisle twelve,” God commented.
Ah, of course. They were always moving that one. “Thanks,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. “I suppose the soda was moved again too?”
“No, that’s still where you think it is.”
God set His hands on his grocery cart. “Is that all? Do you not have any questions about life, morality, or anything like that?”
“I… No. Not really. I was just… I don’t know,” I stammered.
“I’m glad to hear it. Last time I was here I ran into a young couple that would not stop questioning me.” He smiled again. “Oh, and good luck with that foot fungus,” he added as he pushed his cart away.