How does a notably irreligious Jew wind up at the St. Mary’s Catholic Church Christmas barbecue dinner/country-western dance in a podunk Texas hills small town?
Extreme boredom, and a familially-obligated roommate who didn’t want to go alone.
I got to sit at the same table as the monsignor, a silent and wizened husk of a man in what appeared to be a Cowboys bib under his suit. I tried to keep my Star of David and the incipient flames of hellfire beginning to lick at my damned feet a secret, since I really wanted some brisket.
1) Despite the fact that this was a Catholic party – with actual Irish people – the “open bar” served only boxed wine (Franzia, white and blush) and canned beer (Bud Lite, Coors Lite, Miller Lite). I made friends with the putative bartender, who gave me a couple of stowed-away Shiners and admonished me not to tell anyone. Seriously: what the fuck is Catholicism for if not copious Jameson at church functions?
2) Mixed dancing at a religious function. I’d forgotten how the other half lives.
3) Seeing, for the first time ever, a circle of 50 white people doing the “Chicken Dance” in perfect unison is profoundly terrifying.
4) Naturally, there was only one thing running through my head the entire time:120708(1).mp3
Thanks for the beef, Papists!