God’s Ihatesatan branch seeks chirpy, hardworking and creative customer service staff to welcome new members into heaven, conduct orientations and tours. Apply in strict confidence. Applications close before his birthday. Email your resume to godrocks@heaven.com or call 099008800-God Loves You.

Jay’s eyes lit up and his jaw almost fell to the bathroom floor when he read the ad in the Sydney morning herald. He got so excited that he got up from the pot with unfinished business.

“Malini wake up, wake up,” he cried shaking his wife by her shoulders.

“What is it?” she droned sleepily.

“A job! God’s company has advertised. They want customer service people. I am going to apply. Imagine, I will be meeting god every day. It is going to be super hot,” (he had heard Paris Hilton say that on television recently) he said, his eyes bulging out in excitement.

“Wow. Apply, apply. Call them today only,” she replied, now completely awake.

Jay nervously walked to his phone. After two rings, a beatific, female voice spoke.

“Welcome to God’s, the man who knows it all,” she said like a practiced routine.

“Hallo. I am Jay. I am happy, hardworker and I know to create. I want to apply for customer service,” he said proudly.

“Sir, do you mean you are chirpy, hardworking and creative?” she asked, reading out of the digital ad flashing on the cloud right above her head.

“Yes, yes,” Jay said eagerly.

“Alright sir. You will have to come for an interview at ten a.m. in the morning,” she said, her voice echoing.  

“Ok. I will come,” he said.

“Sir, do you know how to reach us?” she asked.

“I was going to ask, but you asked before me,” Jay said, slightly irritated.

“Ok sir. I want you to write this down,” she said emphatically. Jay looked for a pen and a paper near the telephone and when he couldn’t, he yelled in to the phone.

“MALINI, get me a pen and a paper. Hurry.” The female on the other line moved the phone away from her ear and shook her head and screwed her eyes to get the shrill ringing out of her head.

“Yes, tell me,” Jay said.

“You take the train to Central. Alight at Wynyard. Take another train to Balls Head. Go right up to the top of the hill till you see two grass covered balls beside each other.”

Jay let out a chuckle when he heard that.

“What is so funny sir?” she asked sharply, even though she had had the same reaction from Moses, the beer delivery guy, an hour before. She just didn’t understand why though.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jay said, trying hard to keep himself from bursting out.

 “Anyway. When you see the balls, close your eyes and ask yourself: Do you love God with all your heart? Do you love God with all your soul? Do you love God with all your mind? Do you love God with all your strength? If your answer is yes, then jump off the cliff and God’s personal assistant, Monica Pewinsky will pick you up. But jump only when your answer is yes,” she said, trying to caution him. “Ok?”     
          
“J-j-jump?” Jay asked, having second thoughts.  

“Yes. And sir, you would have to bear the transportation charges. Alright then, see you tomorrow. Bye,” she said and hung up.

“Bye,” he said replacing the receiver with shaky hands.

He went to the hill the next morning as told and after absolutely making sure that all his answers were in the affirmative, he jumped, in desperation. This was his golden chance of getting a job. He had been trying to get one ever since he’d landed in Australia, but it hadn’t worked out. So he jumped, hoping that Monical Pewinsky will pick him up and she did and he found himself in a red velvet covered office the next moment. The chairs were fluffy and made of clouds. When he sat, he sunk in quickly; he lost his balance and almost fell down. The receptionist, who he had spoken to yesterday, laughed. She stood two inches above the ground in her white lacy dress. She had wings which she kept flapping every time her feet touched the ground to come right up again. She wore a crown laced with delicate emeralds. Her eyes were blue and looked like the ocean. She smelled like fresh lilies. Jay stole sideway glances at her. The walls were covered with hymns praising the lord.

She asked him if he would like to have a drink. He said yes and promptly, out of thin air, with one slight motion of her hand, a glass of apple juice danced in front of him. He reached for it and held it firmly. He gulped it down with urgency, as his nervousness had made his throat as dry as a dog biscuit. When he looked around, it seemed that there were no other rooms except the reception. He patiently waited for his turn as he watched another man appear out of nowhere and walk by with a file in his hand. He disappeared just like others as he crossed the reception table. Must have come for the interview he thought.

“God will see you now,” the receptionist announced nodding at Jay, adding “best of luck,” as he stood up. She pressed a green button and was sucked into a blue room, which seemed to have suddenly appeared. It was empty. Jay looked here and there with quick, short glances, his eyes rolling like a chameleon’s.

“Thou hath more hair than wit and more faults than hairs,” a deep, rich voice boomed and the room shook. Jay almost jumped out of his skin. The voice was louder than the blaring loudspeakers that were played during weddings back in India. He searched for the source of the voice, but couldn’t find a thing. Then, a blinding light exploded in the room, while Jay covered his eyes. First he saw five girls, all wearing tight, black leather pants and jackets, standing in a semi-circle. Then Monica Pewinsky appeared in a pink sleeveless top and short denim shorts, with a lollipop in mouth. She looks so different than when I saw her in the morning. She had looked so professional in her buttoned jacket and long, black trousers.

Then finally, God appeared. He was in a bathtub, having a bubble bath. Lit candles stood neatly along the sides of the tub. God wore a blue pendant and a wreath made of fruits and flowers on his forehead. The leather clad girls sat around him with their legs folded, laughing and giggling. They plucked fruits out of the wreath and started eating them.

Then in one quick motion of his hand, everyone disappeared. A mahogany table and two chairs sat in the room. God was seated in his huge, swivel chair in a blue Armani suit, his fingers tapping on the table. He motioned Jay to sit and extended his arm for a shake. When Jay stretched his arm, God moved his hand back to smoothen his long, brown hair. Jay’s hand stayed in the air not knowing what to do. God laughed and apologized for his joke. Jay smiled back sheepishly, replacing his hand by his side.

“So, why dost thou believe that thee is fitting for this position?” God asked lighting a cigar. “Oh, I am sorry. Would you like one?” he asked offering Jay the case.

“No sir,” Jay replied quickly. “I am sorry, but I have just come from India. Not very good English,” he added apologetically.

“Ohh, I apologize. I’ve been reading a lot of Shakespeare lately. The earlier comment about you having more faults than hair was from one of his plays. One hell of a writer that bloke. So tell me Mr. Gay: You have a very funny name though...”

“Jay sir,” he said, cutting God midway through his sentence.

“Oh dear. Your resume did say J-a-y, but I thought that was a misprint. I was actually impressed that your parents had given you such a bold name,” God said, raising both his eyebrows.    

“I am sorry to have disappointed you God,” Jay said with downcast eyes.

“Jay, you have nothing to be sorry about. So where were we? Oh yes, why do you think you are suitable for the job?”   
      
“Well, I am very smart actually. I am good communicator...”

“Omm…omm…omm….” God started chanting and then suddenly realizing his folly, he said, “You carry on. Sorry. It’s just something Buddha taught me the other day when we had met for a drink. Bugger is seeing a new, Lebanese spiritual healer. She is just wow.” God closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He communicated his feelings by joining his index finger and thumb, while the other fingers spread out in the air. Well anyway, so when he is at work, he gets a bit, you know aroused thinking about her, so he chants this new mantra to calm himself down. You were saying?”

“Yeah, I work hard and I am sincere with my work. In India I worked for a big, men’s chaddi shop...”

“Chaddi?” God questioned, his face contorted in confusion.

“I am sorry. I mean men’s underwear,” Jay said.

“Ho ho ho,” god let out a grunt. And then leaning closer to Jay, as if telling him an earth-shattering secret, he said, “I taught Santa that,” and nodded. Jay continued.

“Anyway, I am always smiling and good to people coming to buy chad..i mean underwear. My boss liked me too. He was very friendly. He would come to the staff toilet and talk to me, standing right behind me, with his hands on my shoulder while I went to toilet. Everyone was jealous of me. Every morning he would smile at me and…”

“Hence, horrible villain, I'll spurn thine eyes like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head, Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd'in brine, smarting in lingering pickle,” said God, standing up, as if performing on stage and waited for an applause. When Jay kept staring at him completely bamboozled, God said, “I am terrible. Just too much Shakespeare. Have you ever read him?”   

“Yes. In school,” Jay said, shaking his head in irritation.

“Oh really?” God said mockingly.   

“Yes,” Jay replied defensively.  
     
“Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins!”

“B-b-but.”

“Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.”

“B-b-but.”

“If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.”

“B-b-but.”

“You are as fat as butter. You are as rheumatic as two dry toasts.”

“L-l-listen to me,” jay pleaded, almost close to tears now.

“Methink'st thou art a general offence and every man should beat thee.”

“Y-y-you are so, so.”

“You speak an infinite deal of nothing. Were I like thee I'd throw away myself.”

“I am leaving. You are very mean. I liked you,” Jay said in tears, his lips drooping like a two year old boy’s whose lollipop had been snatched away. He got up to leave, but he couldn’t figure how.  

“I want to go. Can you tell me how to go home?” Jay asked, between sobs.

“No no Jay. Sit down. You don’t understand. This is a stress test I conduct to examine my staff. You were pretty good. Others get violent. Look here, can you see? Last week, this guy, what was his name, aah Krishna, had come for an interview. He lost his temper and punched me right on the face. It still hurts,” God said, showing Jay the bruise on his face.  “He is supposedly well known in India. So what? I don’t want people with attitude working for me. Anyway, Jay, my good man, you got the job. You can start immediately,” God said, flashing his teeth, like people from toothpaste commercials.

“I want to ask you, how much is my salary?” Jay asked, feeling much better now.

“Well, you will be on one year probation. You would be working three months with Saddam, three months with Bin Laden, three months with Musharraf, and three months with Bush. I personally apologize for the last one. It was Buddha’s idea. He said working with Bush would make my staff appreciate the fact that I gave them brains. Bush! What kind of a name is that? Retard! Anyway uhh, congratulations. I will see you soon then.

“But my salary?”

“Oh yeah. That. Umm, you unfortunately won’t be paid anything during the probation, since we are providing you with such a great training ground. We will talk the terms at the end of the year.”

“But my visa expires in a year?” Jay exclaimed with a panic stricken face.
               
“Well, that changes everything. Umm, we don’t generally sponsor people. What’s with all the expenses and stuff. Well,” he said, letting air out of one side of his mouth.
“Next time then,” he said and shrugged his shoulders in an I-don’t-know-what-to-say manner. “But I like you Jay. Best of luck with everything,” he said flicking his hair back and with a clap of his hands, he vanished and Jay was back at his home.

“What happened? How did it go? Did you get the job? How much is the salary?” his wife bombarded him with one question after the other. She had been waiting at the door ever since he had gone.

“I will tell you later. I need to take rest,” Jay said, evading her gaze.      

“Alright, alright! At least tell me, how does he look like?”

“I don’t know. He had a Shakespeare mask on throughout the interview and spoke with a fake French accent.”