Phew, the title is almost a blog entry in itself!
I love dinner with Martin. We may warm up slowly, but by the main course, we're giggling away - and when the bill arrives, the tables around us have given up any pretence of ignoring our discussion, so I wickedly save the best or most shocking for when my debit card is in the machine.
First, though, the scripture discussion. Martin and I were discussing my lack of faith rather intently, and he said, "You read scripture daily, right?"
I whistled and looked at the ceiling.
Martin laughed and imitated me, saying, "I LOVE this."
"Well, Martin, you have to understand. I WOULD read Scripture daily, but my Bible is holding up a stack of books, and more importantly, my fondue set."
Martin fell out laughing. "It's holding up the unit, is it?"
"Yeah. AND MY FONDUE SET."
"Look, honey, just give me the measurements, and I'll cut a block of wood that are the exact dimensions of your Bible. Then, without anaesthetic, we'll whip it out (by now, *I'M* helpless with laughter) and we'll stick the wooden one in."
I gave in. We continued our animated dinner conversation, with the table next to us paying more and more attention...then whilst I was paying, I pulled out the doozy.
"Oh my God, Martin, I have to share this conversation with you."
"Go on, then."
"This guy was starting off a conversation with that tired old phrase, 'no one is 100% straight or 100% gay.' We know what that usually means, right?"
"So the other guy agrees. Guy #1 asks, 'Have you ever found yourself having occasional sex with other guys?'
"Guy #2: 'Erm, no. What do you mean by 'occasional'?'
Guy #1: Four times this term."
By now, Martin was practically on the floor, the two guys weren't even pretending conversation, and our Indian waitress was so rapt, she nearly forgot to finish the transaction.
I couldn't resist, so I added some commentary:
"Cleopatra, Queen of Denial, you're GAY. God, only a religious conservative could have gay sex every fortnight and be convinced he's straight."
I may be going to Hell, but I'm going Emirates first class - screw the handbasket.
5 comments:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Priceless! Ah, to have seen the faces of the people at the next table...
I miss you, she'enedra.
Ari.xx
My religion doesn't believe in a hell, but mind if I come with you? I think we'd have some fabulous conversation along the way. :-)
Miss you too, hon. God, I wish you'd been there. The guys were even staring at us as we put our coats on - and for once, it had nothing to do with my boobs.
Reiza - if only you knew how close I came to being a Jew after teaching at a Modern Orthodox school with exceedingly qewl rabbinim. I just couldn't give up shellfish and bacon. (I hate cheeseburgers, that wouldn't have been a problem)
Absolutely, hon, come with me - I hear Emirates first class is pretty amazing ;-)...and yeah, I've been dying to have one of those chats over coffee with you for years!!
Ixx
Four times a term - one assumes that he had sex, went to confession, and just as the guilt wore off had sex again...many conservatives would go every two weeks. At least, that's what I assume.
Yours, non-conservative...
One also assumes that if you went to hell via Emirates, the conservatives would go to hell via a personal plane chartered by Ben Izri with air stewards recruited entirely from the Nazi Ragazzi. Or something like that, anyway. And just think who'd be there to greet them/you. On second thoughts, don't think. There'd be too many red faces - but whether this is from misdeeds or hysterical laughter at your humour is yet to be defined.
Hello, anonymous. Clearly, you know the Catholic system very well and I think you've laid out what happened perfectly.
Believe it or not, I used to go to confession *every week*, and I never was that conservative. I'd expect if he's really conservative, he might as well. Oh, crikey, I hope you're not one of my clerical friends and that they don't read the comments too closely, but now I struggle to make the Easter obligation.
Love the mental picture of the plane with Ben Izri and the Nazi Ragazzi. I hope I know you and that you're a friend of mine.
*Snort* You've given me the mental picture of who might be there to greet me; you can't withdraw it now. As for red faces at my humour, unlikely - Martin is the real catalyst here - he gives me permission to be outrageous, so I am. We just play off each other really well, like any good comedy team.
A bit like some of the Dominicans I know who just crack me up when they're together...
Ixx
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