Banter on the Sabbath
“What are you doing working on a Sunday?”
“It’s the job madam. The Council decided that we have to patrol seven days a week, so here I am.” I gave her a polite smile.
“Hmph!” She rejoindered with not a little scorn. “God’s word is that you should not have to work on the Sabbath day.”
“Ah madam.” I replied. “Regrettably it is my Managers will that I work on Sundays, so again, here I am.”
“Well you shouldn’t have to.” Said her friend.
“True, but damned souls like me are forced to walk the earth, or rather these car parks, from early in the morning to late at night, whatever the day.”
“Sinner eh?” They both gave me broad, denture lined grins.
“God said even sinners should not have to work though. It’s in the commandments.”
“Yes Madam, but I believe I come under the ‘Ox down the well’ exemption.”
“Cheek.” The first woman laughed at me. “You’re too clever for this job.”
“True Madam. Unfortunately I’m probably, as my father often observed, too clever for my own good.”
“God will punish you.” Her friend warned me, but she said it with a smile.
“He’s not already?” I countered. They laughed again.
“Well he should punish the people who make you work on Sundays.”
“If you’d put in a good word for me Madam, I’d be extremely grateful. As for my Managers, all thunderbolts gratefully accepted.”
They got the joke and we all parted with smiles.