The Taylors finished their nasal singing at around the same time as we finished our main course. I could feel the grease around my mouth.
"Christ on a cracker, fundies eat this stuff all the time?" Marissa asked, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin.
"Not all of them, some are very into healthy eating," Annie replied.
"Dessert, anyone?" I asked.
"Yeah, why not," Faye said. "It's not that bad, actually," she added, mainly for Annie and Marissa's benefit.
Anna came back.
"How are y'all this evening?" she asked. She had a strong Southern accent, unsurprisingly.
"Very well, thank you," I said.
"Are y'all related, or - "
"Yes," I replied, explaining which ones of us we were related. "We haven't seen each other in a while, so we thought we'd come here to catch up." I felt it best not to explain why we hadn't seen each other; I knew that some fundies went to colleges like Pensacola and Crown, but I didn't want Anna asking too many questions.
"Lovely!" she trilled. "Are y'all wanting dessert?"
"Yes, please," I said. "We'll share some ice cream pie and some cinnamon rolls." I paused, then remembered something. "I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier, but is there any way in which we can pray for you?"
"I recently got engaged," she replied, waving her ring around. "So it'd be neat if you could pray for my marriage."
No gratitude, I thought, as we agreed to pray and she walked off.
"No please or thank you," Marissa whispered; she was always one for saying what everyone was thinking in situations like this.
"You'd think gratitude and politeness would be part of the SOTDRT, but apparently not," Faye said.
Nobody took to the stage as we ate dessert, but as we left the table (after tipping with tracts, which I'd brought along) I saw the RV family walk up the steps.
"Crikey, they're skinny," Faye said. I laughed at her usage of such a British term; Mom used them liberally.
"Maybe they took advantage of the 50% off if you sing or preach deal," Annie commented.
"Oh, they definitely would have done," I said, as we walked through the door of the gift shop.
"Ovulation kits?" Marissa exclaimed, holding one.
"Well, you know how much fundies set store by their fertility," Annie said.
Just then, a very familiar family walked in.
"Who are they?" Marissa whispered.
"He's a preacher, very anti-gays and Obama," I hissed, feeling the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
I watched as his children looked at the board games.
"Come on, we don't have time now, my slot is in ten minutes," he said, before the family trooped back out. I heaved a huge sigh of relief.
"He's preaching??" Faye said, looking worried. "Is he going to start screeching about how men should pee?"
"Let's leave before then, then," Annie agreed.
I was in front of the book section, seeing which titles I recognised, when another familiar voice.
"What do yer think of this?" the man asked, holding up a pair of earrings.
"Very pretty," the wife said.
"Did you hear ma preachin'?" Weenie Man asked.
We all froze to the spot.
"Y-y-yes, sir," Faye said, being polite. We'd actually barely been able to discern what he was saying, not because of his accent but because he'd been so rambly and failing in grammar.
"Do you go to church?"
"Yes sir." Annie answered this time, as she was able to answer the question truthfully. I never remembered what denomination she was, only that it was a fairly liberal church and that she was part of the choir.
"Would you like us to come be part of yer preachin'?"
Marissa was determinedly not looking at him, and was sending me a message with her eyes that read "FUCK NO!"
"Oh... I... er... don't know... we're rather busy for the next few months," Annie replied.
"Alright, it was worth askin'," he said, turning back to the jewelry (or joory as he'd been calling it).
We left as quickly as we could, knowing that this would be an amazing story to tell on Dumb Things Fundies Do.