December 24, 2006

Dammit. It's almost midnight. What the hell are you doing on the computer? Midnight mass in in 50 minutes. Get dressed. Get your ass to church. Man, I feel like your mom.

** * Warning white trash Christmas tale to follow * **

Midnight mass. Good catholics go to midnight mass on Christmas eve. We were young, life was a party. We had our own variation on the celebration of the holiday. We went to midnight mass.... but we went after a few cocktails. All my friends would grab a bottle or two from the parents booze stash and meet in a park. We'd drink what we could and then head on over to midnight mass... This particular year our friend Peggy brought a bottle of Wild Irish Rose to the park. Being the booze connoisseurs that we were (at 16 years old) we all refused to drink it. My friend Mike looked at the bottle and proclaimed "This is evil. The devil's blood". Peggy was quite offended. Usually we would drink anything but today was ... well, Christmas Eve. This was no time for crappy wine. We argued the propriety of drinking Wild Irish Rose on a holiday. Peggy was quite upset by our snub. In her own personal protest, she ended up drinking the whole bottle herself.

We attended midnight mass. I noticed Peggy looked quite ill (for some reason or another).... She looked at me and said "I don't feel so good"....."Church" That was the only thing that went through my mind. Peggy is going to barf in church. I looked around at all the statues and they seemed to be starng at me. I heard a loud voice inside my head (was it god?) The voice said "DO NOT LET HER BARF INSIDE THE CHURCH"

Great. Now, I've done some unholy things in my life but I'll be damned (literally) if I was going to let Peggy puke on Jesus. My friend Mike and I grabbed her arm and hustled her through the huge double doors. We got her just outside of the front of the church and that's when Peggy let loose with a huge purple stream of vomit. Mike looked at me and said "See that's why I did't drink that stuff" .... I concurred ...."Yea good call" I said as I struggled to stand Peggy up.... "But we really should get her off of the steps before mass lets out." ... Mike agreed. We both looked at Peggy and she was really upset. She was sobbing about "Going to hell" and "Puking on God". Mike said to her "Look Peggy it's not like you threw up in church. You threw up outside the church so it's not that bad. " That seemed to calm her down a bit. We threw some snow over the barf, carried Peggy to the car and got the hell out of there.

In some sadness I must report that was the last midnight mass I ever attended.

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