I brought up this story in chat last night, and Rambo asked me to post it here even though I'm a never-Mo', so here it is. I'm copying and pasting from where I wrote about it on my blog. The full article is here:
(Mis)Adventures in Chastity----------------------
April 1998.
I was 16 years old and I knew exactly where I was supposed to be: in the Sunday school classroom, with the little kids, making sure their butts were glued to chairs while they watched
Veggie Tales so that their parents could attend the fund raiser youth auction for our upcoming youth group mission trip to Ensenada, Mexico.
That was not where I was.
Instead I was behind the church, my arms wrapped around a 6’6″ 250 lb. specimen of a man named Nick
[1], my lips locked with his. It was a warm spring night, the stars were out, and it was unlikely anyone was going to stumble on us in our nook by the church playground. We were being bad and it was exhilarating.
Nick had begun coming to the youth group a few weeks before. He attended the nearby Sumner High School and was best friends with the guy who was dating my cousin. He also happened to be an inactive Mormon, although I didn’t take any interest in his religion while I knew him.
We had been outside for a while, had moved from making out by the wall to making out on the ground, when suddenly he said:
“If you wanted to, we could go back to my grandma’s place. It’s near here.”
I don’t know what was more alarming about this situation, that this was the first time a guy had asked me to sleep with him, that it had happened at church, or that he had thought the prospect of sex in his grandmother’s bed would be an enticing one. I suddenly came to the realization that it was high time I developed better taste in men. I politely turned Nick down (he was fairly ill-humored about that) and made my way back into the church for some
Veggie Tales. Lots and lots of
Veggie Tales.
A couple of days later, my youth pastor kicked Nick out of the youth group and told him never to return. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only girl in the youth group that Nick had invited to his grandmother’s bed—for all I know, he may have been successful with some of the others—and the pastor had figured that if Nick wasn’t there to draw closer to Jesus, he could hit the road. I last saw him through the window from the youth room, wandering down the street past the church with a black eye the size of my fist. I wondered what could have possibly given a guy that big a shiner like that.
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[1] Names have been changed to protect the guilty.