Ever experience a chain of events that intimately resulted in you being the one getting in trouble when in reality it wasn't your fault? Sort of like being in the wrong place at the wrong time or as in this case the right place but at the wrong time.
Because I had been a bit under the weather this weekend my wife and I decided to stay at home for the day to rest then later we would go to the evening mass. Each Sunday my wife lays out my jacket for me and then places the offering envelope inside the same pocket so that I won't forget it. Then as the usher comes along and passes the offering basket I reach in my pocket, pull out the offering envelope and place it in the basket. Sounds pretty cut and dried wouldn't you say?
Well it should have been and would have been had it not been for my good buddy Michael Emery. Not long ago I was visiting with Michael during the San Francisco La Carrera Panamericana Fiesta. Being the full time promoter that he is, while I was introducing Michael to a friend of mine he began handing out some of his team stickers. In the process Michael handed me one as well and not wanting to forget it I simply placed it in a place where it would not get lot or damaged. Yep, you guessed it. In the very same pocket that my wife puts Sunday's offering envelope.
So here we are as the choir is singing away and here comes the ushers baskets in hand working their way down each row as they collect the offerings. When the usher got to our row and began stretching the long handled basket in front of everyone so that he could reach all the way to where I sat I simply did what I always do. I reached inside my jacket and grabbed what I assumed was the envelope and tossed it in the basket. Everything was fine as far as I was concerned until I heard my wife gasp so I quickly looked in the direction of her horrifying gaze only to see everyone else staring at me with looks that can only be described as disturbing. It was at that very instant that I saw what the usher was looking at and without saying a word he quickly slid the basket back in my direction.
It seems nobody thought a Lucha Libre Racing team sticker was a reasonable offering. I can only assume Michael might feel differently but none the less I quickly found the envelope still in my pocket and exchanged it for the decal. The jab in my ribs that my wife gave me told me not to expect anything special for dinner tonight.
What does all this mean? Hell I don't know but I do know one thing... I'm keeping my wife the hell away from Michael Emery for awhile. May he rest in peace.