I offered to (was gently ordered to) return to the store and, once returning, fell victim to my brain-block on toilet paper again. I drew a blank on the name brand. I blame that on O.S. (Outhouse Syndrome)- the inability to understand the difference between Charmin, Scott's, or any other 'brand'.

I thought a trip down the aisle containing household paper products would jog my memory as I was not about to call home to say I couldn't remember something relayed to me just moments before (the pride thing before the fall- akin to the 'asking for directions' thing).

I wish I had.

My 'outer' was in that aisle. I mistook her for my savior (toilet paper- wise). She was 60 something, dressed nicely, and so 'American grandmotherly' that, from a distance, one could imagine her dabbing 'eau-de apple pie' behind each ear in the morning. I decided to ask for her help.

After explaining what I thought my 'better-half' wanted, she smiled understandingly and pointed to the lower shelf behind me and told me which brand was the most desirable.

As I leaned over to reach for the rolls, I heard the troubling words. I closed my eyes for a second trying to think of how she knew and immediately realized it was because of my appearance or, rather, my tank- top which exposed the symbol I wore.

The words she spoke were, "Excuse me sir, are you a Christian?"

I responded, despite the alarm bells going off in my head, "Well, yes I am." But then I added, "I was raised Catholic."

The small gold cross I was wearing had slipped out of my tank top. The cross was my mother's which she gave me prior to her passing.

She looked at me in a way best described as 'sadly' and offered, "Catholic? Really?" She added, "I'm Christian".

Her face was grandmotherly but her eyes said, "J'accuse!"

The alarm bells were getting louder. I struggled with whether to make a quick exit or to defend my being raised a Catholic due to circumstance and later reaffirming that accident of birth while taking many of the best things of all religions to heart.

She spoke again, "We had some Catholics live near us. They were very nice".

'They'?

4 letters translated into a verbal punch. I wondered if she realized she had just called me a 'they'.

I decided to leave it alone and simply dismiss it by blaming my religion on my ancestry, "Well, I'm of Slavic descent and Catholicism is something I grew up with. I think it's still part of the Christian family- isn't it?"