For reasons I won’t bother you with I attended church last Sunday.
As you might expect from a guy who writes a blog about all the 168 guys he’s ever had sex with, I don’t go to church often.
At first I felt very odd sitting among a hundred people who spend Sunday mornings in church. I’m more accustomed to spending Sunday mornings with the Guy I meet on Saturday evenings.
The service wasn’t all that bad, actually.
The pastor or whatever her title was spoke a lot about love. Love and guilt.
She encouraged her audience to embrace all their fellow people with love. She told us never to judge others for who they are or what they do. And then she read those verses about turning the other cheek.
She also mentioned that Jesus died for our sins, making me wonder if I had any.
I wondered if the story of Guy #37 and #38 would qualify as a sin to the lady preaching about what Jesus had done to make up for it.
I first met Guy #37 at his apartment. When he opened the door he immediately grabbed my hand and pulled it inside his pants which were already unzipped.
Guy #37 embraced me for sure, but not with love.
The second time I met Guy #37 was when he had also invited Guy #38. There was a lot of embracing that night, but very little love.
I never had one single line of dialogue with Guy #37. (Although I did have an obligatory conversation with Guy #38 when he gave me a ride back to my subway station. The conversation lasted long enough to discover we had absolutely nothing in common.)
When God told me to embrace my fellow men with love, this is not what He had in mind, was it? Does God really want me to treat sex as casually as a bag of chips?
I don’t think so. Sex is like a drug. We can use it recreationally, but we should never deny it the respect it earns.
I believe that’s what I did those two times I visited Guy #37’s apartment. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t even lust. It was consumption. Emotionless greedy carnal consumption.
As I was pondering my sins someone came by with a little basket in which people were throwing money. I ended up throwing money in a basket three times last Sunday.
Did I pay the bill for those nights I consumed Guy #37 and Guy #38?
After the service the pastor lady was standing outside greeting people. It felt like exiting a plane and having to politely greet the cabin crew. This particular crew was holding a basket for my coins. I wonder when airlines are going to pick up on that.
When the pastor lady greeted me she did so with the most genuine of smiles, even before I had thrown any money in her basket.
She didn’t strike me as a person that would ever judge me for the things I’ve done. She would probably think of Guy #37 and #38 as a waste, not a sin.
And she’d be right. Sometimes you just have to say ‘No’ to drugs. It’s the same with sex. The moment someone greets you for the first time by pulling your hand to their hardware and starting to kiss you without even a proper ‘Hello’ and you feel the sex will be incredibly boring because you’re not allowed to know the person you’re doing it with, that’s the moment when you should say ‘No’ to drugs.
(Well, those and other moments.)
I think God and the pastor lady got through to me last Sunday. I deposited a well earned coin in their basket.
LENGTH: 15 minutes + 20 minutes with Guy #38
FORMAT: Sex date
SEX SCORE GUY #37 (0 = When Bambi’s mother got shot <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 6.5
SEX SCORE GUY #37 and #38 (0 = Bowling shoes <–> 10 = The Best sex ever): 5