Mistaken identity

It all started in the second grade. I went to a Catholic school where we learned very little about religion but were taught the "sit kneel stand" thing, communion, and confession.

One project we were given was to go home and research our name and it's biblical origin. My parents looked into their bible, and some other books, called a professor they knew and it was decided my name was a translation of "Jesus". Being a little kid I did not realize the implications of going to school and relaying that tidbit of information.

The next day at school, everyone is talking about John, Matthew, Luke, Anne, Beth etc..For some reason, I was last to present. I told them my name meant Jesus. Everything went silent. The teacher turned a funny color not unlike an eggplant. Not another word was said. I could tell the teacher was angry, but I had no idea what I had done. The rest of the second grade was miserable from that moment on. I broke some code and became a messiah pariah.

These days, I live in a town where a good portion of the population sees the virgin Mary everywhere., In toast, moldy walls, car bumpers etc.. Every other week, my step mother is driving 100 miles to look at "the virgin" that has manifested itself in a tree stump or a bathtub stain.

When a stolen Jesus statue fell into the Rio grande river, people came to the police station to worship it in the evidence room.

I don't put a lot of faith in inanimate objects but what can you do? It makes people feel better to think Jesus and Mary are looking over them and making their presence known.

My father in law was a barber and a mean sonovabitch ex marine. He did not like me ..a messkin marrying his daughter. He never spoke to me and made it clear he never intended to. The last thing I wanted was him cutting my hair. So I just stopped getting haircuts all together.

About a year later, I quit my horrid corporate job that was killing me. I lived in a small rental house in west side neighborhood. I had my 401K money to live on and I was trying to get my head together and decide what to do with the rest of my life.

When I would go to the small Mexican restaurant by the house, people would whisper and stare at me. Little kids would point at me and say "Mama! it's Jesus!" then they would get smacked off their chair.

I never thought much about it. I was a medium complected, thin, 24 year old with long brown hair and a beard. I didn't see Jesus when I looked in the mirror.

When little kids would call me Jesus I figured it was just their simplistic view of the world making comparisons of the things they see around them.

I was mowing my lawn one day and I looked over and saw the neighbors lawn was 3 feet tall and out of control. I hadn't met the people but I knew it was a single mom, her severely disabled teenaged son and a very old man who lived there.

I figured they could use some help, so I let myself into their gate and cut down the jungle and made it look nice.

The old man was struggling down the wheelchair ramp with a five dollar bill by the time I finished. I told him that I didn't want any money. I just wanted to help out.

The old man started crying and said "Jesus it's really you" he begged me to come inside to show me his shrine. I was a little freaked out but this man was 95 years old crippled and harmless. I went inside he showed me his little corner where he kept his Jesus pictures and candles.

I was kind of touched that he really believed I was Jesus, so I sat and talked with him for a while.

Later that year my dad took me out for my birthday to a hole in the wall biker bar. Everyone kept coming up and staring at me. Finally a drunk guy in the band yelled into the microphone, "Jesus is in the house!" Frigging embarrassing. I don't like attention and it seemed this Jesus thing was getting out of hand.

My dad told me that resembling Jesus was a big responsibility and I had a lot to live up to. Thanks dad, not that I didn't have enough to do...

Why does this shit always happen to me? Why couldn't I look like David Hasselhoff or something.

Luckily, I don't get mistaken for the messiah much anymore. Now everyone thinks I'm silent bob.

Not sure which one is worse.