I Was Hit On By A Priest
and he was straight…. I think. This was a little disturbing in a weird Thorn Birds way and if you have never read that book or even watched the mini-series – SHAME ON YOU! I know all the gays have. Everyone wants a priest like Father Ralph…..
So here I am at Whole Foods, catching up on blogs, Facebook, and trying to forget the strange insurance cult interview I wasted my time at. This is what I get for having a dial up connection and not putting down money I don’t have to get Wi-Fi. I normally don’t have ten minutes to kill sitting around at home waiting to download a video of tap dancing dogs dressed as Elvis when I need to send resumes into the black hole of Hell. So here I am, looking for a respectable job, when a nice gentleman asks me if I want his extra coffee. I look up and … It’s a priest with a collar and everything! He tells me he was planning on meeting his fellow priest but unfortunately he had to bail at the last minute. (Important Priest things I’m sure. I fight the impulse to think of alter boys on summer vacation. I am soooooo going to Hell.)
I take the coffee, share my big table with the hot priest who also has a Mac only mine is bigger. I try not to stare. I wonder if he’s a serial killer just dressing like a priest to lure unsuspecting women to their deaths and keep their fingers in the freezer. I start going through all of the sins I’ve committed in the past 48 hours. Hell, the last few hours since I woke up. Gee, I’ve at least two things to confess since 6am. I wonder if it will help my chances if I make my confession really hot. I can supply video of my sins. On second thought that would look too desperate.
I go back to the serial killer theory. In the mean time the priest is just writing his sermon (or sicko stalker fantasies) on the other side of his laptop. I am so conflicted. I make small talk; “thanks for the coffee”, “how do you like your Mac?”, “A priest? Wow, that is an interesting career choice. Talk to God much?” I’m such a dork. I realize my Tinkerbelle shirt doesn’t help. Am I going to Hell? Hell, there is no Hell except the one you create but I was too muzzy from sleep to have a deep philosophical discussion.
Then the Priest thanks me for sharing my table, I thank him again for the coffee and he leaves. As he walks toward to rectory of the Catholic Church I realize I never even asked his name. I wonder, if he has impure thoughts whom does he confess to? Another Priest? Is there a chain of confession? Does the Pope hear confessions? Why can’t all the confession porn that is heard be enough to keep the celibate priests occupied and off of alter boys? Was Martin Luther correct when he said we don’t need intercession of priests between God and us because just by the very hearing our sins they are adding to the corruption of the Priesthood? I suppose the world will never know.