I recently attended church for a friend of mine who is about to move to Texas for a few years to convert people. Fair enough, I suppose, and I don't mind going to these type of things because it's only like 30 minutes (if you show up after sacrament) and happens once every 6 months. I can deal.
What I can't deal with, however, are super-mormon acquaintances that I haven't seen since high school, trying to figure out how I came to have Satan on my speed dial. This occurs at nearly every party/event/gathering I go to where the majority of people are A) Mormons and B) Concerned Mormons. Just so happens that this describes almost every Thanksgiving and Christmas since I was 15.
After a few hours of gritting my teeth, saying vaguely assuring things like "Religion just isn't my thing" and refraining from saying "You know... I just wanted to have lots of sex, and being Mormon was inhibiting that", I generally get out pretty unscathed. This time, however, I wasn't feeling as good about it. For whatever reason, I was more irked about these fairly normal sequence of events more than I had ever been. So while making a pit stop for gas on the way back to my place, I did what would have once been the unthinkable. I bought a pack of cigarettes. And then I marched triumphantly out of the gas station, knowing I had finally conquered years of my parent's valiant efforts to turn me into a good kid. A minute later, I sheepishly walked back into the gas station and bought a lighter.
When I got home, I lit up one of the bad boys and proceeded to attempt to smoke it. I don't know why exactly, but I was pretty sure I was doing it wrong. I turned to the google machine and did a search for 'how to smoke a cigarette', which provided lots of useful links. After 3 or 4 attempts at smoking different cigarettes, I smelled like an old shoe that was left too close to the campfire for a little too long that one summer at camp when you were trying to dry it after you fell in the lake while trying to tip over your friends who were in another canoe next to you, and gave up in disgust.
I guess I'll just have to stick with all the other stuff that makes Jesus cry. You know, like drinking whiskey and voting for Democrats.
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