I met a girl at church last Sunday. Her name is Rebbecca. She was very flirtatious with her eyes. She looked at me funny when I was trying to sing hymns. It distracted me. It confused me. I am fat, I am obnoxious — I know these things, I embrace them. Why was this pretty girl giving me “the eye”?
After church, she walked up to me and she said, “Hi, I’m Rebbecca.”
“Jon Myers,” I said.
“I know. I’ve read some of your writing.”
Was this why she was talking to me?
“I was wondering,” she said, “and I know this is forward, if you might want to go out tonight.”
This had never happened to me before. Usually, I walk toward a woman — just any woman — on the sidewalk, and she quickly crosses the street, glancing at me nervously. Normally, I sit down in one of the pews in church, and everyone, women and men both, slide to the opposite side, turning the bench into a very unbalanced teeter-totter. Normally, when my mom has gatherings of friends, she makes me stay in the garage.
And yet here was this pretty girl and she was asking me out.
“Okay,” I said. “But I don’t have a job. I’m a student.”
She said it didn’t matter, she would pay.
We went out that night. And then the next night.
And then the next night.
We talked. I found myself attracted to her. Sexually. I couldn’t believe it. The guilt. I remembered Paul saying it is better to marry than to burn — but I was just burning and burning for Rebbecca with no chance of marriage in sight. Plus, I don’t think sex should be used recreationally, even if one is married. That’s what Kirk Cameron films are for: entertainment. Not sex. Wait, I meant Kirk Cameron films are for entertainment, and that sex is not for entertainment. I did not mean that Kirk Cameron films are, themselves, not for sex, though that too is true.
Where was I?
Right. I don’t think sex should be used recreationally, even if one is married. But here I was so attracted to Rebbecca, and I wanted to have sex with her. But I knew she would never permit that, despite her mild — and surely brief — infatuation with me. But then last night, we were sitting on her couch watching LEFT BEHIND: WORLD AT WAR, and she turned to me, and she said, “Jon, has anyone ever told you how sexy you are?”
“No,” I said, truthfully. “No one’s even hinted at it.”
She put her hand on my thigh.
I felt something stirring beneath my corduroy.
“Well, you are. And you know what else?” she said.
She leaned forward and kissed my mouth. I had eaten some garlic fries before we watched the movie and I was very self-conscious about it, but she didn’t seem to notice, perhaps thanks to the Altoids I had eaten afterwards.
Anyway, after kissing me she said, “I want to take your virginity.”
I stood up quickly, knocking Rebbecca over. She hit her head on the coffee table. She said the eff word. Twice. “Fuck,” she said, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”
And then I knew, I undestood completely. She was only pretending to be a Christian.
“How did you know I was a virgin?” I asked.
“My head is bleeding.”
“How did you know?”
“You wrote about it.”
“Is that the only reason you wanted to go out with me?”
“I just thought it would be funny,” she said. “You’re so self righteous. Really, you’re just such a little shit. I thought it would be funny to prove to you that you’re human too.”
“You think sin is funny!?” I shouted. The entire situation was compounded by Kirk Cameron on the television screen.
“I don’t think sex is a sin,” she said.
“Get out!” I shouted. “Just get out of here!”
“It’s my apartment,” she said.
“Fine,” I said, “then I’m leaving!”
“Good, you fat-assed little shit.”
I walked to the door, grabbed the knob, pulled. It didn’t move. The devil was holding me in here with this evil woman, holding me here, trying to make me sin. I shook the door, yanked as hard as I could, but it wouldn’t budge. Oh, darn you, Satan!
“The dead bolt, Jon,” Rebbecca said.
I stopped, unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door. I walked out. I couldn’t say anything. My face felt hot and cold simultaneously. I walked home. I couldn’t expect Rebbecca to drive me home after what happened.
When I got home, my mom was in the kitchen doing the dishes. She asked how my night went but I couldn’t even stand to tell her. I just grabbed a quart of ice cream and headed out to the garage. I forgot a spoon, but I didn’t want to see my mom — a woman — again, so I just scooped it out with my fingers. Rebbecca had fooled me. For an entire week, all I could do was think about her. I thought I might marry her and make babies. And then I found, she had no interest in me at all. She just wanted to have sex with me to prove a point.
Oh, women. They are just evil. From Eve on down. Every single one off them.
If it wasn’t a sin, I might turn gay.