Caterwauling

Today my mom was up and dressed early, so I took her to church for what, she says, will be the last time she goes.

We were waiting for first services to empty out so we could roll in for the later session when a guy came up to talk to her. Now, everyone’s so flippin’ nice there, you just assume folks are being neighborly when they start to chat with you. Of course, I’ve offended a lot of pious types because I don’t get much past the, “Hi, how are you?” stage, and I never, ever let anyone into my personal space.

But not her. Oh, no, I see where everything went wrong with my childhood. …

So this dude has an accent that I simply cannot hear through. And I’ve gotten pretty good at deciphering folks in the past six years that I’ve lived here, but maybe there was something about him that just made me want to run for the hills. The fact that he kept trying to hug me and kept squeezing my very-sunburned arms drove me bugshit nuts, so maybe that was it.

Anyway, he claimed he was at first services and wanted to come back after second services were done so he could hang out with us. Great.

I try not to remember all the bad dates I was dragged along on as a child/teen. And everyone who WONDERS why I run at the first blaring “asshole” signal, even if it’s only a potential signal that I could possibly be misinterpreting, well, this is why.

So sure enough, he came back and was standing at the freaking door of the church. I mean, there was no slipping out of a side entrance because he was there where everyone has to walk past. Yay.

I of course ignored him and strolled along, but Miss Must Be Nice to Everyone started chatting with him again. This after she told me to get her the fuck out of there without him noticing!

(Incidentally, I was taking notes during the sermon and she asked what I had written down. To which I replied, “None of your God damn business!” Yes, I know, my language in church sucks. But at least it wasn’t like two weeks ago when I kept shushing some very loud teen girls behind me and, on the SIXTH time I turned around, I said, “Jesus Christ, shut UP already!”)

Anywhore, this clown stalks us outside and refuses to leave unless he can either:

A) steal mom away from me, or

B) tag along with us to whatever phantom place she claimed I was taking her to.

Now, I’m the first one who will say I WANT her to meet a sugar daddy who will sweep her up (and away). He said he runs a store and has no time to date, so he needed to be with her RIGHT THEN AND NOW.

It occurred to me that maybe he didn’t go to first services after all but instead was trolling the church for women. Which, I can totally understand. I would say the bulk of my dates in my 20s were with men I perceived to have a strong religious affiliation because I always figured I’d want my kid(s) to grow up with faith and I knew it wasn’t probably going to come from me.

And don’t think I’m not scanning the seats myself, looking for attractive faces that I’ve seen there more than once. 😉

So she basically told him we were going to a party (“out in Reston,” I supplied — as in, not close to where we were) and he turns to ME and says, “She can either ride with me or she can ride with you and I’ll follow you.”

Hunh?

I said, “Aren’t you a pushy bastard?”

He said, “So that’s a yes?”

I said hardly. I know she was looking for me to fight him off, but come on — I didn’t invite this!

I started looking around for help, and I saw my salvation — my lone friend in the church was coming out, and I practically frolicked to him because well, of course I was happy to see him. But I figured that asshole might not fuck with me with this dude next to me. 🙂

I quickly explained that this idiot HAD to spend time with my mom RIGHT NOW because he runs a store and has no free time during the week. And from his accent, I suspected the store was a 7-11. And we just watched this idiot, marveling at how easy it was for him to push his way in and try everything in his power to get a date.

I’m not sure what all ran through my head at that time, although it pretty much convinced me that the great guys are unsure of their greatness and won’t put their heart on the line, but the flaming assholes are like the ugly babies of the world who don’t care that they would look better with a diaper over their head (or at least blocking their mouth) — they just persist in their trolling when the subject is CLEARLY disinterested.

The question of the day, however, was how wrong it is to give someone you meet at church a wrong number. I personally don’t think it’s a sin, just as long as you don’t give the church’s phone number. 😉 ‘Cause THAT would be worthy of some penance for sure!

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 4th, 2008 at 4:54 PM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.