You're in a cafe on O'Connell Street - a very main and vibrant street in fancy North Adelaide.
Picture this: In the centre of the cafe is a 2 metre tall, free standing glass pane with water gently running down the sides into a little base filled with pebbles. If you can ignore the fact that it makes you need to go to the toilet it's incredibly tranquill and nice to drink your hot chocolate by.
Now let your eyes settle at the base of the glass - what do you see?
Money? Mould? A shrek coloured buddha statue?
Up until last week you could've seen the buddha - but not any more.
You see last week, while in a largely empty cafe, I chose the path of most resistance to say hello to someone. One of the points of resistance was between the (very yucky) buddha statue and my laptop bag. My laptop bag, and by extension, myself - came out best. A giant crashing noise, tiny bits of green ceramic, panic in my chest, dollar signs in my brain and laughter in the corner (thanks for your support girls!) errupted all at once.
I picked up most of the pieces and the girls who work there swept up the rest. I offered them some money (secretly hoping I wouldn't have to fork out for a false god) and was entirely relieved when they said they weren't sure. I let them know I'd be there for a while, recovering on the couches in the corner with me oh so supportive girlfriends, and if they decided they wanted some cash they could come and let me know. They didn't.
And that is the official story on how Jesus, in me, defeated buddha in the cafe.