No really Mary, why you buggin?

I now have a statue of the Virgin Mary in my kitchen. She's about a foot tall, made of resin, and manufactured in China, presumably with love.

Why you ask, do I have this?

Well if you can believe it, this nun totally made me buy it. I didn't have a choice. She didn't exactly force me, or put some sort of Catholic hex on me, but I think I was coerced just the same.

On Saturday morning I stopped by my neighborhood grocery store for a couple of things. As a rule, there are vendors outside with carts selling all sorts of stuff. I live in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood, and the sundries up for purchase run the gamut from huge pieces of fried pork fat to the latest Tejano CD.

This my friends, is no Super Target.

I've yet to see a nun selling stuff though. She was tucked away in a corner, standing not much taller than the garbage can next to her. She had a couple of crates turned upside down, covered in pillow cases. A dozen or so religious statues were carefully arranged on the cloth. I rushed past her, pretending not to notice she was standing in the shadows.

I wouldn't exactly say she creeped me out, or even elicited some sort of emotional response, but as I made my way through the store I knew I was going to have to buy one of those blasted statues.

Maybe it was her big, sad brown eyes. Or the fact that I still feel a little guilty about cheating on my Confirmation test 17 years ago. Though I tried, I didn't get very far past her when I left the store. I stopped in my tracks, turned back and asked her, "how much?"

My Spanish was about as good as her English, so completing our transaction was a little challenging.

She asked me which one I wanted. I pointed to the biggest statue (that's my champagne tastes for you) and she inturn indicated what I thought was a five dollar price tag.

Five bucks? No problem. I counted out five singles and reached out for my Virgin Mary statue with the baby Jesus sprouting out of the ground at her feet.

Not so fast, Angie. That one is ten dollars.

"Ten dollars?"

"Chess, dee-ez."

Alright sister, I knew where this is going. But I also knew I couldn't very well back out of deal on a Virgin Mary statue with a nun, not over five dollars.

I handed her a five, threw my statue in my bag and walked away, immediately wondering, "Now where in the hell am I going to put this God damned thing?"