I’m so overwhelmed with having internet access back in my home, that I’m dying to tell you about every little mundane thing that has transpired in my life over the last several days. I mean, sure BlogHer was fun and Marilyn will never room with such a boring party-pooper again, but there are other more boring things to discuss. Like the fact that I got ministered to last night in my front yard while drinking a beer! Praise the Lord!
NikkiZ, Stace’s daughter and I were hanging out in the front yard last night. I’m sure my neighbors think we’re weird since we choose the front over the private back yard, but they’d understand if they saw the poop-mine-field back there. So, we’re just chillin’ and chattin’ and being all relaxed and shit. I’m drinking my after-dinner beer and the girls have sodas and we’re waving to the dogs as they walk by. Good times.
Then, these two middle-aged men come up to my yard carrying brochures for something. They introduced themselves as being members of a nearby church and for some reason I hid my beer. I HID MY BEER. Because that’s going to be the thing that makes them not like me? Am I concerned they won’t let me come to the church I wasn’t going to attend anyway? Am I afraid they won’t give me those fancy looking pamphlets in their hands? WHY DID I HIDE THE BEER?
Anyway – they were there to tell me about a new kids program their church was offering. I thanked them politely and asked if there would be beer served for the parents. (I did not!) They also asked if there was anything I needed them to pray for me about, which caught me off guard. I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a damning smart ass comment about my failing porn career needing all of the help it could get, but I refrained because I’m not a total jackass. I smiled and told them that, “No. My life is very blessed, save your prayers for those who really need it.”
They were very nice and considering the religious attitude in some areas of the south, I actually consider it an honor when people think to at least try to minister to the tattooed lady drinking the beer in her front yard. Some would have assumed I was a lost cause. As MrZ said, “You were a lot nicer than I would have been.”
Something tells me MrZ wouldn’t have hidden his beer.