Sunday, August 14, 2011

Sunday in Round Rock



The Lone Star Bakery, home of the famous Round Rock Donuts, is right across a narrow street from First Baptist Church.  First Baptist Church has been an object of my ire for thirty years or so, ever since they built the big red brick "auditorium" with the plastic steeple.  Around then, they began buying up the small, affordable houses in the vicinity and either converting them to church purposes or tearing them down to create parking lots for their deluded, SUV-driving, Gospel-of-Prosperity-believing patrons.  Of course, that didn't stop me from attending services there for a few months,  when I was extremely grateful for the Texas Baptist Children's Home Family Program.  One of the requirements of residency there was that I attend church.  I chose First Baptist because the house parents where I resided went there, and I could get a ride.  My resentment intensified when my children were being conned out of their pennies to support the "missions," and I knew perfectly well that their missionaries were retiring on a lot more than I made!  In recent years, I have confined myself to railing about the fact that they seem to think they own the public streets around their church, putting out signs and road cones, ignoring stop signs and sauntering about as if people didn't have a right to drive through on the public street.

Today is Sunday, and the church, as usual, is doing a booming business.  So is the bakery.  I navigated the environs of First Baptist, and found the drive-through line for the bakery was halfway around the block.  The bakery parking lot was relatively empty, though, so I parked and tried to go in.  Dearly Beloved, it was impossible!  People were crammed in there like sardines!  The church should wish to pack 'em in like that (maybe--if they served doughnuts)!  The last two in the serpentine line held the door open so that they could keep track of spaces in line, letting in the heat.  I looked at the crowd (should I call the Fire Marshall?) and decided to brave the car line.  It's much easier to wait in line sitting down, air-conditioned and listening to music than standing, crammed in with at least fifty people. 

By the time I got home, half an hour later, with the doughnuts, I felt as if I had emerged victorious from a conflict.

PS...I live three minutes away from both these houses of worship.

2 comments:

  1. HI RONNI - JUST SEEN PHOTO OF YOUR BIRTH FATHER AND I WAS INTERESTED IN CONTACTING YOU AS YOU ARE RELATED TO MY FRIENDS FATHER MARTYN - I BLEIVE MARTYN KING IS YOUR BROTHER - YOU HAVE THE SAME PARETNS. WERE YOU BORN IN COLCHESTER, ESSEX UK IN 1949?

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  2. That's me! I actually met Martyn and other members of my birth family in 1989. If you click on my profile, there's an email link there, where you can contact me directly.

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