How not to get to heaven

This morning a good friend nearly drowned. It was not the harrowing experience you might expect, she was drinking a Sprite. I couldn't help but picture the conversation at the reception desk in heaven.

"Welcome. We just have a few questions to forward your classification here. How did you die?"
"Drowning."
"Drowning. Okay. Where did this occur?"
"Palmdale."
"Got it. Palmdale." A pause. "Isn't that in the desert?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is."
"Was there a flash flood or something?"
"Well, no. I was drinking Sprite. From a can."
Long pause. "I see." Rustling through papers. "Right this way miss. We have a special place in heaven for you."

It was before dawn, and this is how my brain goes. People wonder why I always seem to be having a good day. Actually, people wonder about my sanity since I do seem to be laughing at nothing quite a bit. Ah well, hopefully they have a special place in heaven for people like me too.