Smooth Operator

Back in 1990, after a failed attempt at higher learning at UMass Amherst, my mom got me a gig working for the catering company that ran the cafeteria where she worked. She worked at a community college and the catering company wanted to have a little muffin and coffee cart in the lobby of the main building of the school. The kids and faculty would come in and march right over to my little cart where I served ginormous muffins and horrible coffee. It was pretty sweet really, I made friends with some of the students and I was making some money.

One day I was working the cart (I used to say that because I thought that it made me sound more official. It really just makes me sound like a tool) and I was bumming out because the girl I was sort of seeing had broken it off (why? was it the living with the parents? the no license/car? shitty job working behind a muffin cart in the lobby of Bunker Hill Community College? nah, she must have been a lezbo). This regular customer came over and noted that I was sad and asked what was up. She was this really pretty girl from El Salvador and she had a very thick accent. She listened to my pathetic tale of woe (whoa!...hee. Joey Lawrence rules) and then she asked me what I was doing that night. Why, nothing! I was doing nothing that night Pretty Lady! What do you have in mind? What she had in mind was a party with a bunch of her friends in Boston! She invited me to go with her to "a Babba Tahhk". Wow. Babba Tahhk. That sounds fancy and exotic Pretty Lady from a far away land. I would be honored to attend this event with you. So we made plans to meet at the school later that night and she'd drive me there. AWESOME! I'm gonna nip this Summer of Failure in the bud!

So, after my mom dropped me off at the school and told me to be careful and to have fun (I sooooooo wish that part wasn't true), I waited for my ride to show. She pulled up in a little car jammed with about 4 other people (so with me in there it should be really spacious and comfortable now). I climbed over some people and said hello to Pretty Lady (I wish I could remember her name). The people in the car were all REALLY friendly and REALLY interested in what my story was. It was odd but nice. Meh. Whatever, we're going to a real rager of a party right? Riiiiiiiiiiight.

We drove over to some apartment in god-knows-where and piled out. There was about 6 more people in the apartment when we went in. I remember the apartment being small, clean and absolutely devoid of alcohol. Hmph. Plus, they had carrot sticks and raw broccoli in bowls on the table. Uh oh. My radar had sent up a bunch of warnings but I chose to ignore it since there was a Pretty Lady talking to me. I could have been on fire and I'm not so sure I'd have noticed.

Once again the others at the party were all REALLY friendly and asked a lot of questions about me. There was this one guy who was trying to bond with me over the fact that we both liked The Jam. Pretty Lady was introducing me to everyone and whenever she did so she'd mention that I'd just broken up with my girlfriend. My radar was shrieking to no avail. I was too busy wondering when the keg was going to show up.

And then it happened. The oldest dude there (a guy in his mid-twenties and therefore WICKED OLD) stood up in the front room and said in a loud voice "Ok, everyone! Let's get our bibles and form a circle in the living room!" Say what now? Get our what and form a what? Oh fuck me. For reals? Oh stupid, stupid penis. How could you bring me here?

All the people in the apartment (about 12 or so) did a sort of group "Hooray!" and ran to their bags. Hmmm, how'd I not notice they were all carrying bags before? Wow. There sure are a lot of crosses in this tiny apartment. They each grabbed a spot in the circle either on a chair, couch or cross-legged on the floor. Pretty Lady was beckoning me to sit next to her on the couch. Heh. Uh, no thanks there Crazy Pants. I'll just stand guard here over the Cherry Coke if that's ok with you. The leader dude asked me what was wrong and I had to confess that I had COMPLETELY misunderstood what tonight was supposed to be and could I please get a ride home now? No? Oh, ok. I guess I'll just sort of mill around awkwardly for the next FRICKIN' HOUR while you do your Bible Talk. Huh. "Bible Talk". "Babba Tahhk". Hmm. So, she didn't try to trick me after all. I'm just amazingly stupid is all. Wow..

To their credit the little christian people were still really nice to me. After they had finished, they drove me back home and Pretty Lady would still stop by and chat with me at the cart. But having been raised a Catholic, my views on religion and such are ... let's say repressed. It tends to freak me out. I still don't like raw broccoli at parties.