It's Sunday. Bob is upstairs in our Courtyard hotel room, dressing for church...Baptist Church nonetheless. Zack is waiting for the shower. I am having a cup of way-too-hot coffee in the lobby--waiting for my gentle men. Why are we churching for the first (and only) time together...ever? Zack is singing in the choir...a Salem Boys Stewards of Grace guest choir. Those two guys upstairs are my strength, and they are what makes it possible for me to let go of the shit from my other life ...and bother to pick it back up again. I could not do either without them. I would simply get buried in shit forever, or until the white coats came and took me away.
Last night we stole Zack for a night. Bob golfed while Zack and I putzed around, then we all went to see Over the Hedge, which was over the edge ridiculous.
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Later, after church at Woody's (local gas station/buffet restaurant) and with the whole Salem gang, we are being entertained by the silliness of Zack and his friends when several bikers pulled into the parking lot:
Zack: There's a wild biker gang comin' in, let's run!
Chin: Just show them salad. Then they'll run. They hate salad.
I love this post! It reminds me of the adventures you, Nicole, and I used to have! like pulling the van over in cal city to mattress race in the parking lot of American sales for concert tickets.. I loved our adventures!
ReplyDeleteI forgot all about that! We did have some nutty adventures. I wish I was journaling then! I may have a few from those days, but I was too busy writing papers, raising a youngin', waiting tables, and directing a youth group to document any of it. Are you writing? I hope you are writing. I have a few things you and your sister wrote in a notebook around here somewhere. Hmmmm.
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