“Hand me my chalice, it’s the one that says…”

I nearly had a car accident with Samuel L. Jackson the other day.

There I was doing a three-point turn in the middle of the road and he came barreling around a corner in the telephone company truck and nearly hit me. But when I recognized who it was I got out and had to speak with him.

Alright, so I didn’t almost hit the well-known actor. Actually, the guy driving the truck was the priest at church. There’s a priest at church who I swear looks like Ving Rhames and this one who bears a passing resemblance to Samuel L. Jackson. Naturally, I find myself thinking of the movie “Pulp Fiction” frequently in church and snatches of its (incredibly profane) dialogue float through my head at the most inopportune of times. (As in the title of this post, which I’ll let you “Pulp Fiction” devotees finish yourself.)

After our near accident, we exchanged a few pleasantries and that was that. Still, it’s yet one more sign of how different the African church is from the American that clergy have jobs on the weekdays that may have nothing to do with their priestly status.

By day, telephone repair man - but on Sundays, man of God!

I also almost got in an accident with the bishop a few weeks back. A while before that I cut off the same nun in traffic within two minutes at two different intersections. She sure knew how to lean on her horn!