So there I was today, and life was good. I played 9 holes of golf, which I hadn't done since four years ago or so with one of my brothers-in-law on an island in Canada. I like to cheat when I play, but I didn't do too much of that this morning.
Later on in Hermosa, a lovely little blonde seemed to be, like, into me. We talked about Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot (although she didn't get my "Desolation Row" reference.)
She started rubbing my thigh and telling me how she thought I "got" her.
First warning sign.
She smiled and started talking about "God." She was a Notre Dame graduate, and I said, "Oh--you mean "Taliban U?"
She didn't get that reference, either.
Anyway, she was not at all impressed with my lack of, um, piety or superstition or whatever it was that seemed to make sense to her. I also think that she wasn't too thrilled by my review of the whole priest/altar boy thing.
She asked me about my religious views.
She looked a bit upset and said,"That's a deal-breaker."
I didn't even know we had a deal.
And then she left...
Cock-blocked by Jesus.