Prayer Cookies, Some Not Quite Legitimate

There is a bake sale at The Methodist today. Their building is on the corner of Apple Ave. and First in War, First in Peace, and First in the Hearts of His Countrymen Blvd.

The signs say A and First Sts, but people got bored with those, so the "letter" streets are popularly known by fruits. It doesn't matter which fruit, as long as it begins with the correct letter, and mail is delivered accordingly. Numbered streets are delivered according to the first word of Constitutional constituents, Roberts Rules of Order, or movie titles. Thus, First Amendment Ave, Second the Motion St., Third Man on the Mountain Drive, etc. All appear on the return address labels the Save the Leisure Suit Society sends in hopes of getting a donation.

So being at the corner of Avocodo Ave. and First We Kill All the Lawyers Street, there is a lot of foot traffic in front of The Methodist, and also people leave their cars in the street, with the doors open, while they run up to grab a baggie of bars.

The bake sale is for the expenses of Tiffany Tremont. Tiffany is 31 and has 3 children. Her husband was killed by a drunk driver. The company she worked for moved to Myanmar. She has no insurance. She also has endrometrial cancer.

Christians understand that cookies are a form of prayer, especially if they raise money for the people you're praying for. It's all the better if you can get some of your heathen neighbors to say a prayer by buying a cookie.

Dawdlers sit on the benches at Apricot Ave. and First Blood and watch to see just which cookies are purchased by which people, because Periwinklians know you can detect sexual situations by cookie preference.

Lesbians buy oatmeal cookies, gays buy thin mints, straights buy brownies, homophobes buy peanut butter bars, virgins buy coconut macaroons, loose women buy ginger snaps, loose men buy pecan tassies. Happily married people buy gourmet kumquat cookies. Persimmon pudding chunks can mean anything. [To people outside Periwinkle County, these connections may seem illogical, even counter-intuitive, but PCers know themselves and their neighbors rather well.]

Then there are those who were born illegitimate. They buy the Rice Krispy treats that have been out in the sun a little too long. Snap, crackle, but no pop.