Jesus. I know that guy.

I know Jesus.

He’s from the Northern Beaches. He wears jean-shorts - not cut-offs, proper shorts - and Reef sandals. He mostly hangs with the new-age Christian crowd. We have mutual friends from high school.

Every time I bump into him (once every year or two, usually at a house party) I’m in a group conversation where I’m saying terrible things about people or internet sex tapes or the word ‘cunt.’

He always goes all polite and quiet. I think partly ‘cos he doesn’t have much to add, but also ‘cos he doesn’t want to seem uptight and godly. It’s unfortunate - my funny swears are wasted on him.

He’s a hard person to talk to. I always want to bring up how fucked Everything is, but he doesn’t relate to my cynicism - and I end up having to backpedal. EG:

Jesus: I saw Rodney last week.
James: Fucken Rodney! How is he? Nice bloke!
Jesus: He's great man! Was really nice to see him.
James: Yeah totally... He’s about 10% evil though, hey.
Jesus: -
James: You don’t see that? He’s way too sincere I reckon. There’s gotta be something wrong with him. Like, a 15 year old girlfriend or something.
Jesus: Um, really?
James: Nah nah, he just has no real backstory. Throws a bit of a ‘moved to Darwin’ vibe, you know?
Jesus: -
James: Like, for example, I wouldn’t be suprised to hear he had, like, fully assaulted someone in the past.
Jesus: You heard that?
James: Nah, I just made that up as an example.
Jesus: Umm, I don’t really-
James: Sorry, forget about it. He’s a really good dude. I’d love to catch up with him soon.
Jesus: Cool...

Different wavelengths I s’pose. Fucken’ Jesus, you know?