The almond milk (or something like that)

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

“Well, I majored in Philosophy in college. I spent 5 years of my life reading about guys who theorized about the meaning of life and why we exist and all that stuff. I lived 40 years and I never learned the answer, despite the piles of books I finished. I wanted to know… if someone knows the answer to that, it has to be you.”

“Well, Mark, if I’m honest, I don’t know. I have literally no idea.”

Mark looked at God and couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe he had died in a car crash, he couldn’t believe he had died wearing a shirt that said Bernie 2020 and he couldn’t believe he was about to spend the rest of eternity with this useless being.

“I mean… I do have a hunch. But it’s only intuition.”

“I’m listening.”

God took a sip of water from a white glass that wasn’t there five seconds ago. Mark didn’t pay much attention to it, and made himself comfortable in his chair.

“You know when you are at the supermarket (I’ve never been, but I can imagine with what you guys tell me) and you are looking for a special kind of milk? Like, the new almond milk from the commercial or some skim milk with vitamin B or whatever. You can’t really tell the difference between that milk and the one you have at home, but you are looking for it anyway. Well, it’s been thirty minutes and you can’t find it. You don’t like talking to employees because you feel like you are bothering them, but you ask a young girl who’s not more than 21 years old (and you start thinking poor girl, maybe she wanted to study Psychology and she’s working here, and then you start thinking I’m so condescending, maybe she really likes this job and I am criticizing it, all these thoughts come to your mind before asking her the question) where is the almond milk from the commercial. And then she says they ran out of it, but she can offer you a similar one.”

At this point, Mark doesn’t have a clue what this (person?) is saying, but he keeps listening anyway, because what the hell is he supposed to do instead?

“Alright, you say. You’ll take the similar one. She takes you to the aisle and gives it to you. By now, you don’t even know what else you were supposed to buy. You put the almond milk (the similar one) in your trolley and remember that you had made a list with the things that you needed to buy. Well, actually, your wife had made the list because you don’t even know what’s in the fridge. You find all the items in the list and go to the checkout. Sitting behind the cash register is an old man. He says hi and is super kind to you, never erasing the smile from his face. You admire him for that, considering you can barely keep a smile on yours for five minutes straight, and he is sitting there all day.

When you finish paying, you grab all the items and put them into bags. You drive home for twenty minutes and arrive just in time for dinner. Your wife is waiting for you at the door and she helps you with all the bags.

She tells you that dinner will be ready in five. Oh, and she invited Sarah and Bob (or Jane and Sam, or whatever names white people have) to join you, you know how hard it’s been on them with the baby and everything.
That’s okay, you say. Sarah is your wife’s best friend and you find her a little annoying, but you think that she is a very good person.

Then your wife asks you about the milk and you tell her how you were thirty minutes searching for it and then you found a similar one. Oh, where is it? she asks.

You start looking for it and realize that you have left one bag in the parking lot.

Crap! I forgot it. That stupid milk, you tell her. She smiles and tells you that it’s okay, you can buy it next week.

You put the plates on the table and make a salad, while you wait for your guests to arrive. After fifteen minutes they do, and you have dinner and a very nice evening. Before they leave, you look around. Everybody is laughing, your wife is wearing that yellow dress you love, and for the first time ever, you were interested in what Bob was telling you about his job. You don’t have an incredible life, but you have friends to spend a wednesday evening with, and someone worth spending half an hour searching for almond milk. And then you start laughing, too. Suddenly, Sarah is not so annoying anymore and the game you’re playing (charades, which normally you would find very lame) is the best game in the world.

You know that feeling will only last for a few minutes, but they will be the best minutes of your week, and you wish you could live on that moment in loop forever.”

God took another sip of water and put the glass on the table. A few seconds later, the glass disappeared.

“I don’t know, something like that. Does that make sense?” God asks Mark.

“Yeah, actually it does.”

Mark had started crying. He put his hand in his pocket and grabbed the ticket that said, at the very bottom, “Cashews milk — $4”.