Yet another Erin story. She came by to pick me up to do some job for her. When she arrived, I quickly loaded a bag full of clothes and other essentials into the back of her S.U.V., explaining “I have somewhere to go after we get done.”
We complete the task (whatever it was, can’t remember at this point) and I tell her “I need to go to the Catholic Church.” I don’t offer any more information than that.
We drive over there, I grab my stuff and hurry in. I explain to one of the Priests that I wish to seek asylum in the Church. I had read somewhere that the Catholic Church was considered its own country (I must’ve confused it with the Vatican), and I was in fear for my life, so I thought if I applied for asylum I would be safe within the Church and my tale would become one of worldwide renown or something. I was all ready to camp out there for several days until the mass media frenzy broke: “U.S. citizen seeks refuge from U.S. government!”
But, the Priest just shook his head at me, utterly bumfuzzled, and said, “Asylum is for when somebody is fleeing one country’s government to another country.”
My mind kept screaming, “But I am fleeing my government!”
I realized then that they weren’t going to be able to help me, were utterly clueless to the nature of my desperate plight. They offered to set me up with a counselor (since I obviously needed one, huddled there with my belongings nervously twitching and glancing over my shoulder) so I half-heartedly agreed.
I never went back to the appointment with the counselor. On the way home, Erin never once asked what the hell that was all about.