I live four doors down from a fundamentalist church. Every so often, the pastor rings my doorbell, inviting me to his church, urging me to “turn away from my life of sin” and to “get right with God”.
This morning, the doorbell rang around eleven, not long after my son had left for work. I was still in bed, but I got up and staggered to the door. It was the preacher again, figuring I was overdue for my latest brimstone barrage. I'd hastily pulled on a pair of sweats and my hair was loose and wild, so I'm sure he thought he'd caught me in the middle of a tryst. As it happened, however, I'd spent the night alone. If I had been in the middle of something, I'd not have come to the door at all.
He apparently is aware of my libertine lifestyle, though I’m not quite sure just how he learned this information. The only possibility I can think of is a busybody neighbor, who spies on everyone in the neighborhood, and has no doubt noted different women coming and going from my house at various hours.
And while I don’t cavort with my lovers out in the front yard, I have noticed the church van drive by a time or two when I’d be giving a passionate kiss to a lover about to get in her car to leave after being with me.
The self righteous preacher probably combined this with my busybody neighbor’s gossip and put two and two together. I’m sure I represent a challenge to him, another lost soul to guide to the straight and narrow.
Most of the time, I’m both faintly amused and irritated by the preacher. Usually, I simply tell him that I’m busy, but thank him for thinking of me, and I assure him that I’m quite happy just as I am, thank you very much.
He's barking up the wrong tree with me and his time could be much better spent elsewhere, such as running a soup kitchen or something else that actually helps people.
He apparently is aware of my libertine lifestyle, though I’m not quite sure just how he learned this information. The only possibility I can think of is a busybody neighbor, who spies on everyone in the neighborhood, and has no doubt noted different women coming and going from my house at various hours.
And while I don’t cavort with my lovers out in the front yard, I have noticed the church van drive by a time or two when I’d be giving a passionate kiss to a lover about to get in her car to leave after being with me.
The self righteous preacher probably combined this with my busybody neighbor’s gossip and put two and two together. I’m sure I represent a challenge to him, another lost soul to guide to the straight and narrow.
Most of the time, I’m both faintly amused and irritated by the preacher. Usually, I simply tell him that I’m busy, but thank him for thinking of me, and I assure him that I’m quite happy just as I am, thank you very much.
He's barking up the wrong tree with me and his time could be much better spent elsewhere, such as running a soup kitchen or something else that actually helps people.
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