5.8.20

A Catholic Reception -- Part 1


to be fairNOW  now he could be fingered or at fault if there were a second time  as could she be

they were distant cousinsWho knew 

if someone wanted to blood type em unwind their double-helix strands trudge through comparative genealogies they might find they were third cousins maybemaybe dipped their toes quick in the deep river of second cousins
                                                                                                                but nobody with memory was still alive and there was a lot of family  a lot of Catholic family with little distractions except radio at night I don’t know, what do you want to do? I don’t know . . what do you want to do? You don’t know? No. I don’t. Got an idea. Yes? Howbout we do each other?
no matter 
           there wasnt going to be an offspring in the offing from a frolic in the backseat of someones unlocked car parked inside a tall chainlink fenced church asphalt basketball courts with hoops on the sides

the wedding had taken place inside the church and the reception was in its basement

the Polish priestas good as an Irish one  saw no need to banish libations
                                                                              Comon called transubstantiation drink this wine it is my blood the blood of the new and everlasting covenant if he remembered right

despite being tipsy she saidthis girl when he said he thought he got it right he poured heavy into her colas No. No, no, no . . he wanted her to get all those Nos out now  . . As they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat, this is my body. Later . . And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it; for this is the blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.

Youah memorise that What if I did? More power to ya Matthew right he was partial to Matthew Its bread and wine babybody and blood  Matthew.  Yes. Matthew Twentysix, verse Twentyeight.

Memorise that too Christ might be tough to get into her pants


the priest Father Gene  nah he really had no wiggle room to disallow wine and beer and whisky 
no matter 
           he went through the line before the cake was cutpretty sure it was a Polack thing a line leads to the married couplenewlyminted  he didnt know which he was related to for a buck he got a shot of whisky and a cigar  hed hug the groom and kiss the bride 

she was really goodlookin

he could hardly wait to kiss her

and then she kissed something fantastic

he went through the line three timeskinda ticked the groom off  Christ he thought dont bellyache I think shes going home with ya

he had a little buzzwas a little high from the Old Crow shots

three White Owl cigars were tucked in his sports jacket pocket it was a tasteful jacket itd fly for a wedding

he thought hed head outside and smoke ponder the state of matrimony the union of two souls

Fuck whaif he didnt have a soul  he never felt encumbered
                                                               hed seen his birth certificate  he thought thered be something on it a stamp an impress attesting to his incoming soul . Not to save your soul . I wouldnt bet my soul on it . Brutha  ya got a line on some good soul food 
                                                he did like soul food coudbe something to it
it was on the green and white striped canopy over the entrance to a train car  SAM’S  HOME COOKIN’  SOUL FOOD

Sam was a huge gregarious black man who wore a stained apron that he could barely tie behind himself somebody had to help

Sam always had young goodlookin black girls waitressing

he dug the music

first time he went in he drew some stares Sam stared them down mans a paying customer donmatter his colour  his colour is green baby

later he became a bit of a fixture the token white boy he knew all the girlscalled them by their namenames stitched on their nametags sewn to the white aprons they wore over their chiffon green serving outfits 

the stitching reminded him of his fathers bowling shirts whod shit if he knew his son was south of Madison or carousing south of Van Buren too
                         his old man was racist begat by a racist if his old man tried to inform him his Maw cut him to the quick his Maw wasnt racist her fault was  sometimes she just didnt like peopledidnt like their look an aint nothing could convince her otherwise he wasnt sure which prejudice might be worse

his unattested soul might have been nourished by Sams soul food
                                                                    whynot


he thought hed head outside smoke a cigar ponder the state of matrimony   marriage

he heard marriages didnt last fiftyfifty a coin toss  a huge ceremony lotsa money spent souls fused  wha lousy soldering lousy welding not committed too much temptation vowing until death do you part is too long the couples were too youngtoo immature didnt get the enormity of their vows
                                                                      somebody got drunk
Christ


on a particularly deep puff and lengthy exhale like smoke ejected from a riveted stack of a woodburning steam engine he saw a whiff of smoke dissembling a few cars over 

he wandered overthought hed engage the fellow cigar smoker

she surprised him

she was one of the bridesmaids easily the youngest one a real looker despite the braces on her teeth shortcropped dirtyblonde ruddy complexion that would have better suited a redhead  sparkling green eyes

she must have heard him coming
                                   her head was upshe was listening hard she fixed him the moment he stepped into view into the space between the cars 

she sat on a parking curb


Hiya

Hello she said

Enjoying the cigar

I am. Though I’m not a fan of White Owls, but what the hell, beggars can’t be choosers; not like they were gonna spring a ton of dough on really good cigars.

Not a fanhuh

No. My father and uncles smoke good cigar. I snitch one occasionally from their humidors, at home and when we visit, then I wait to have it or duck the cousins.

Duck the cousins They dont pick up the scent on you

You kiddin? Got lots uncles and everyone’s puffing. We all smell like cigar smoke; drives the aunts nuts.

Thats choice

Choicer? Uncle Ben’s got a buddy who sends him Cubans.  Ever have a Cuban?

No

No.  Too bad.  You haven’t lived.  When he gets them he makes a lot of noise about it. He’s generous. He shares. I try to get into them between shares, fingers crossed he loses count. But I think he knows I’m copping them. But he ain’t saying. So I’m looking forward to when I’m old enough so I can have a cigar with him that I bought. It’d be nice to smoke with him.

Thats thoughtful

Well. I think a lotI think that’s why I like cigars. I can muse. I watch the smoke curl off itwatch the smoke curl in the air above me when I exhale. I parse ways of getting out of my housemy folks and I don’t see eye to eye, if they knew I was out here smoking a cigar they’d hit the jets. How unladylike! Yeah, I ain’t no lady.
                                                                                   asif on cue the ash crumbled off her cigar and onto the breast of bridesmaid dress

she felt its weight before she saw it   

he saw it

she pierced him with a look dropped her eyes to her breast brushed it away looked back at him he was still looking at her breast but felt her eyes on him

he looked up

where she brushed the ash away it smudged her gown she smiled See? No lady.

Lemme look again
                    he looked then he looked back into her eyes Yah I see But I like what I see

Oh for cryin out loud! standing up from the curb she weaved a bit

he stepped forward just in case

she held her hand up stop  the cigar smouldering between her fingers Just a moment, Mr. Thoughtful.

Ya got it

she straightened upstraightened her spine got her head balanced between her shoulders

Got it  Better

Better. she shrugged her shoulders

he admired how her breasts bobbed

his admiration wasnt lost on her
                                   Soah . . let me ask you something, Mr. Thoughtful.
Yah

How old are you?

Fifteen

You wouldn’t lie to me?

I dont know you
                  Wouldnt think to lie to you


To try and get in my pants.

Whaa

How old do you think I am?

Sixteenseventeen

Seventeen.

Awright  Seventeen

You wanna mess around?


1224,  Friday,  7  2. 20 
1713,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  5  8. 20

LIAR


nixed by Twitter & Facebook  the presidents post has come down again

  to be candid  misinformation is lying
                                           the president lied about CoVid-19 which has under his watch his “it is what it is”  killed 160,000 Americans