Illustration by Bob AulHang a crucifix from your rear-view mirror. Stick a cute little family of Jesus fish on the back of your giant SUV. Feel free to own a vanity plate professing your service to “The One.” Accessorize your kids with “What Would Jesus Do?” bracelets. Recklessly smash into my little pickup truck with your gi-monstorous-death-machine SUV, wrecking my truck and almost killing me. And apologize—I appreciated that.
But don't change your story and lie to the police. Please don't lie in front of your children. Don't lie to the insurance companies. I don't think that's what Jesus would have done.
But I'm pretty sure I know what Jesus did: I think his almightiness might have helped the arbitrators conclude that you did indeed lie. I think “The One” you serve doubled the insurance on your death-machine SUV. And I think the passionate one decided that you need to fork over a few thousand bucks to fix my truck.
And me? A hell-bound nonbeliever who was advised to sue you for all you've got? I'll do what Jesus or Buddha or Mohammed probably would have done: stay out of court and let it go. Just as soon as I finish this letter.
Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to “Hey, You!” c/o OC Weekly, P.O. Box 10788, Costa Mesa, CA 92627-0247, or e-mail us at Le*****@oc******.com">Le*****@oc******.com.
