I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’ve dated tons of guys…but I’ve had dinner with my fair share. I once had Mexican with an orthodontist, Italian with a guy who didn’t like the Beatles and a really long lunch with a guy that collected Star Wars watches. However, they were nothing compared to the one…the only…DJ Malone.
This whole thing started with my cousin’s confirmation party…
My mother grew up in, I wouldn’t say super serious, but rather a practicing Catholic family which – let’s face it – is a rarity. During Lent she goes to 6am mass every morning and on Sunday. So, suffice it to say, I was also raised Catholic…however, I’m not perfect so it stands to reason that I also don’t practice.
I remember the look on her face when I told her I wasn’t going to mass anymore and she said, “We’ll see about that.”
She dragged my ass to Easter mass which is like the looooongest mass ever. Seriously, they should just call it “The Read Along” because my priest just cracked open that Bible and went to town.
Anyway, I dozed off shortly after and the thing is that Church is so quiet so when she was nudging me in the ribs, I could only assume that I was at home being rudely awakened by my mother for some unknown reason. So, I kept pushing her back while simultaneously fighting to remain unconscious.
I guess she finally lost her patience because she didn’t just jab me this time, she pinched my tummy and I screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK?”
She jumped back in horror as the entire congregation turned to me, awaiting an explanation. I took a deep breath, stood up and said, “…with Jesus. Seriously…what is up with him because that dude is awesome.”
The priest continued with Mass and suggested I come to youth group to find my way back to Jesus the following Sunday.
As you can imagine…that was the last time I went to Church. However, I have always been a family person and I love free food so I figured, “Why not? Sure I’ll go to Tara’s confirmation fiesta.”
And with my attendance came my penance…