Vendredi saint, CoE et dialogue de sourds

Ohhh, bliss, it's good friday.... Voila ce que mon petit cerveau fatigue et un peu malade me couine ce matin a 06h15, alors que Weezer fait des bruits rebelles du cote de mon oreille gauche. Sauf que good friday ou pas, la journee se passe au lab. Vivant en terrain ennemi, celui des disciples de la CoE, l'odeur des hot-cross buns, genre de petits pains au raisin de Paques, m'apprend que les festivites religieuses sont well underway en bas a la cuisine.
La, il sagit de s'armer de courage, de serrer les dents, et d'affronter l'ennemi.

Je descend les escaliers a moitiee pliee sous le poid du sac a main, du sac a livre et du sac a bouffe, le manteau d'hiver, de plus en plus innaproprie pour la saison, jete sur l'epaule gauche, les cheveux encore trempes [pas grave, personne au boulot aujourd'hui, donc opportunite de ressembler a rien]. L'odeur devient plus forte, comme un mechant rappel que y'en aura pas pour moi, ca m'apprendra de pas aller a l'eglise, et d'avoir manger tout mon canard en chocolat en un seul coup hier.
Attablee a la cuisine, la belle fille fait les comptes. Elle porte un twin-set bleu ciel et ecru, surement en cashmere ["because, daaaahhhling, whool is soooo itchy, isn't it?"  ¬_¬ " Dunno, can only afford acrylic, so...." ] , un serre-tete epais recouvers de cet espece de velours qui me faisait detester les filles qui les portait au CM2, sur son carre blond brushe impecable. Bref, tres Madame Le Quesnoy, version brit.

Le premier coup, vif, traitre mais efficace, arrive sous une forme succinte et un peu brutale:
Daughter in law: Dahhhhhling, you look awfull!!!! [Mise en lumiere sur le rhhaa rhaaaaaa rhaaahahaha de la prononciation]
E. : Hi Lou
DIL: And, oh, looorrd! I hope you're not going to woooorrrrrk [prononce weeeeeeuuuuuuurrrrk plutot que work]
E: Well, as a matter of fact, I am.
DIL: oooohh, but. it's good friiiiday! Maybe the most religious day of Easter.
E: Well I don't really have time this year, I must work.
DIL: It's not about having time or not, dahhhling, it's about commitment to one's faith
[la je me dis here we go again, bible bashing time.....]
E: Yeah, right, well, hmm, no. Must go to work. Is liz around?
DIL: Well, you see, she's gone to church to help, she's reeaaaally involved, you know. And usually I go too, but today I've got to do that. I'll go later to help with the bibles...
E: Right. So she'll be back for lunch.
DIL: well, there is a service for lunch, you knoooow...
[well, no, I f*cking don't, god help me ~please~ on this one]
E: Right. Must go. Have a nice day...
DIL: But, Aimelyyyy, wait. You do know, don't you, that Christ died on the cross today
E: O_o ... well, yes, I'm not going to church, but still had a catholic upbringing, you know...
DIL: Oh, dear. Poor you, catholic...  Anyway, I'm making hot cross buns today, and yesterday, I was in sainsbury, I only shop in sainsbury, you know, I wouldn't go to Tesco's, too many of those rif-rafs and other low-lifes, and I though it could be nice of you to come to tonight service, to meet people from the parish....
E: hmm, well, I greatly appreciate the offer, but I'll still be at work at the time the service starts, and....
DIL: well, try to free yourself from your little silly experiments, after all, Christ died on the cross today, for our sins...

C'est a ce point que j'ai tourne les talons, en pretextant etre tres en retard. Ce qui est vrai dans un sens, mon dieu payen PCR m'attendait au labo, gentillement. Dans l'obscurite du lab vide et eteind, la rangee des 12 machines a PCR clignotait doucement, toute vide et prete a etre utilisees.
L'univers de la CoE made in La ferme est juste trop terrifiant des fois, un melange de croyance anglicane, de fox hunting, a la sauce conservative.
C'est la que je me demande si je vais bien de continuer a bunnyboiler sur Dr. A.

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