All this talk about the world coming to an end reminds me that I once had an interior designer named Daniel who had MASSIVE angel wings tattooed on his back. One afternoon we were looking at fabric swatches, and I made the mistake of asking him about them. The conversation went something like this.
Me: So, what made you want to get those big wings on your back?
Daniel: I’m an angel.
Me: (laughing) Yeah, right. (beat) No, really…
Daniel: No, I’m an angel. Actually, I’m an arch angel.
At which point I was alternately considering the following two ideas: Either he was completely crazy or, he was in fact an arch angel in which case it was probably a good idea to be on his good side.
Me: How did you learn that you were an angel?
The rest of the conversation went something like this:
He was working as a makeup artist on the TV show Roseanne. One day, Roseanne brought in her personal psychic to do a reading for all the employees. R’s personal psychic was an obese woman, whose name escapes me – although Barbara seems to ring a bell. Daniel and Barbara met and it was ‘magic’ because their souls recognized one another. It turned out they had been some sort of conjoined holy couple when the universe began. He was the male, she was the female and they had different names. Hers was Esmerelda, but his name was more of a sound. It was like a cross between Superman’s father’s name, and the sound a vuvuzela makes. They ended up quitting their day jobs and went on a one year road trip in a Winnebago, where they would go in and out of their twin alter egos, hugging trees (literally) and preaching to people that the end of the world was near. He also mentioned that when Barbara was her alter soul ego she could run extremely quickly despite her girth.
Me: Wow. So, what’s going to happen? Are we all going to die?
Him: No, nothing like that. Basically, money will become a thing of the past.
Me: So, how will we get goods?
Me: I like the sound of that.
Him: Yeah, people will become kinder, and there will be no irony anymore.
Me: What?! No irony?! What are we going to turn into a bunch of Jedediah Purdy clones?
Him: You’ll be fine… I think we should go with the chenille.