“Religion sucks,” JJ said to Lila.  “Everyone’s fine until you say something slightly offensive.  Then…”
        “Let me guess,” Lila said as she munched a scone.  “You told someone you couldn’t be friends.”
  “Well, we’re just at the hockey game having a good time and the dude is trying to get my number.  He wants to hang out and talk about God.  Or life.  Or just talk.”  JJ fiddled with the greasy wrapper from his finished muffin.  He mashed his finger into the wrapper and then licked off some off the crumbs stuck there.
“You said you would give this a chance.”  Lila looked at her scone.  “Not as many raisins as usual.”
“This was your big idea and I’m going along with it.”  JJ crumpled the muffin wrapper and pushed it away.  “Synagogue, fuckin pagan solstice bonfire, and this whole Christian thing.”
“Hey, it was just a suggestion.”  Her eyes, usually concerned when looking at JJ, flared with exasperation.  Lila burned cool until the match was struck and then she quickly burned hot.  “You’ve been like this lost puppy since you came back here.  Then winning the lottery.  That’s the worst thing that could’ve happened.”
“You make it sound like I’m shut down, completely empty.”
“And that’s why I suggested you check out a few beliefs.  Go to a few churches, try something.”  Lila’s calm had returned and she was fiddling with the remaining crumbs of her scone, arranging them on the plate into a circle.
“Maybe I do need something.”  JJ looked out over Lila’s head.  He looked into the street where a large man in a robe was looking into the café.  He looked like Obi-wan crossed with Harry Potter death eater.  “Hey, maybe that guy’s got the answer.” He gestured with his chin and eyes.
Lila swung around in her seat to look at the holy man peering in to the café.  His robes were brown and cinched at his waist by a black utility belt.  His head was encircled by a thin strip of hair above his eyebrows, ears, and neck.  The dome on top was shaved and tattooed with another face looking to the sky.  The man reached into a belt pouch, pulled out an iPhone, and assumed the texting/facebook stance.
Lila turned back to the table.  “No, JJ,” she said.  “Hipster druids don’t have what you’re looking for.”