I haven't finished this quite yet, so the title won't make much sense. But it's a fun, easy read. Any input is appreciated.
My Random, Embarrassing, and Funny Night of Debauchery
Note:
To protect the privacy of the persons involved during this random, embarrassing, and funny night of debauchery, their real names have been changed.
Warning:
Also, some things have been exaggerated for entertainment purposes.
On a Wednesday evening at approximately five o’clock during the first week in November, the outside air was cool and crisp, as the sky drastically changed from a smoky shade of gray to a grim, pewter. The wind blew lightly through the streets of my neighborhood, relocating the stray leaves from their place beneath the trees. All throughout the block, a “clunk” sound could be heard, as smart and efficient individuals closed their windows to ensure warmth inside of their homes. I of course, was not included amongst these smart people.
As I walked into my bedroom nearly half naked from the shower I had just gotten out of, I felt the cold air from the outside breeze touch my damp skin. It instantly sent a chill up my back. “Sheesh, it’s cold in here,” I thought to myself as I headed towards my opened window and slammed it shut. “Clunk.” I earnestly searched my bedroom for my favorite purple robe from Victoria’s Secret. I sorted through all of the (clean) clothes scattered about on the floor. Items of clothing were being thrown through the air as I finally uncovered the sublime, purple robe. I eased into it’s compfiness and tied it tightly around my waist. It was ten minutes past five o’clock, and I had to be at Maggie’s house before a quarter after six. Shit, I had to hurry.
Maggie and I had decided earlier in the week, that it would be a good idea to participate in a gathering at a “Religious Science” church, as a way to expand our horizons, spiritually. You see, we’ve both reached the pivotal point in our lives where we are (once again) reinventing ourselves; and we both have Oprah to thank for it. Being an avid watcher of The Oprah Winfrey Show, Maggie became enthralled with the ideology of “The Secret”. The Secret is a very simple philosophy: you get what you give. If you put positive energy into the universe, you will receive positive outcomes. If you envision what you want everyday, it can become a reality by the power of thought. Hence the reason for creating our “vision boards” a few weeks ago. To some it may sound foolish, but to Maggie and I, it sounded pure genius.
Maggie began researching The Secret online and found the Religious Science church, that practiced The Secret as well as other philosophies. We both envisioned a New-Age, young crowd, possibly filled with single, attractive males who practiced the same ideas. After all, we both were in the market for a new beau. But don’t worry, our intentions were completely pure in attending the church. Well, mostly.
I went into my bathroom and began the grooming process. I blow-dried my hair quickly, and stuck a plethora of curlers into my semi-dampened locks. I applied quite a bit of make-up to my bare face, and went back into the mess of clothing that was my bedroom floor. Since I had shaved my legs during the shower, I was definitely thinking, “Skirt or dress.” Since all of my dresses were the only remaining items left on hangers, I began to search through the rack. Dress after dress, not a single one was living up to my expectations. Where did all of these dresses come from, anyway? Hidden between two of the unsatisfactory garments was exactly what I was looking for. There is was: My potato-sack dress stood before me, illuminating like a star in the Milky Way Galaxy. A black shirt accompanied the potato-sack dress, since it was basically a jumper. I tried on the outfit and was shocked to see that the dress had shrunken from two inches from my bottom, to a half inch. “Ohmigod! How did it shrink?” I thought to myself. I had only worn it once before and therefore never washed it. The only other explanation was that I grew in height. There was no way in hell I’d be able to wear this dress to a church. I mean, I could have gone with a marm, but I was pretty certain we’d be going out after the service. Plus, there was a possibility of seeing my latest crush, Aidan (which by the way, is a result of my newly-developed daddy issues, where I need a crush at all times…even if I don’t like them). This thought instantly justified wearing the whore-dress.
I walked down the hall where I bumped into my fashionable, younger sister. “Where are you going?” she asked as she looked me up and down. “To a cult,” I replied as I briskly walked passed her. “Well, you can’t wear that dress to a cult, “she said. “Why not?” I asked. I mean, I knew what she was going to say. But I had only hoped that it would be alright in her eyes, since kids these days dressed like Vegas strippers. “It’s too short,” she said as she chomped on her neon-pink gum. “Ugh, I know, I know,” I said feeling defeated. I continued examining my rear-end in the mirror. “You should wear leggings underneath it with your New York boots,” she said. Ohmigod, brilliant! I put together the recommended outfit which screamed, “Chic, classy, and sophisticated lad-ay!” “Ow!” as my sassy friend Jessica would say. I was pleased with my outfit and ran out of my bedroom and down the hall towards the bathroom to finish up with my hair preparations. It was ten till six, and I grabbed my purse, my keys, and my lipstick, and ran out the door.
While driving on the freeway, I heard a single, loud beep coming from my cell phone. I scrambled to the bottom on my never-ending purse and retrieved my wireless device, a.k.a my BFF. It was Maggie, who sent a text message. I’m kind of nervous,” she wrote. Trying to multi-task by looking at the road, shifting, steering, and changing the radio station, I replied:
“No, don’t be! It will be fun if anything. We’ll have a good time. And uh, I think you should invite Aidan, too
” I added.
“Haha. We would have 2 handcuff him 2 us if we brought him there,” she replied.
“I’m okay with that,” I said
“I bet u r
” she said.
I arrived at Maggie’s luxurious casa at approximately six-o-five pm. I would have made it at six o‘clock, but due to minor congestion on the 5 freeway, I showed up a little late; I usually like to remain punctual. I knocked on her heavy door and saw her walking towards me through the glass window. She opened the door with her classic, warm smile. Maggie is the greatest. She exerts kindness, class, and appreciation for all things in life. She was the perfect person to experience the “Religious Science” church with.
“Hieee,” she said in her sweet Maggie voice. We embraced. “Aw, you look so cute. I love your outfit.” I said. “Aw, no,
you look so cute,” she challenged back. I love your dress.” “I look like a whore, “ I said jokingly. “Noo you don’t, you look
real cute,” she said reassuringly. But I won the “you’re so cute contest” because Maggie truly looked fabulous. She wore a long black/navy blue-ish dress over dark denim. She paired this ensemble with a pair of ruby red heals with a classic-pointed toe, that matched her ruby red hair, and her ruby red lips. I said hello to her beautiful Indian roommate who was bundled up in a blanket on the couch. “Let me see your dress,” she said. I did “a walk” for her and turned around to show all sides of my getup. “That dress is so cute (cute was definitely the word of the evening).” “Thank you,” I said. “Where are you ladies off to?” she asked. In synchronization, Maggie and I both said, “A cult.” There was a pause, followed by laughter.
Maggie offered to drive to the cult, since she thought I drove too much. During the short car ride, I asked Maggie about contact with her recent ex-boyfriend who was off in a land far, far away. She was still dealing with the loss, and had been receiving e-mails that often times made her feel sad. She told me she was doing alright with everything and continued to take it one day at a time. She was hopeful that the cult would provide her with helpful insight to her current situation; perhaps redirect her in the proper direction. We were both making conscious efforts by practicing the steps of The Secret, to improve our lives.
“Okay, I’m going to give you these directions and you’re going to be navigator, okay?” Maggie said. “Ay ay, matey,” I said. She continued driving though the haunting hills of San Juan Capistrano. It was so dark and spooky and I felt like I could have seen a ghost at any moment. “Okay, make a right on to Camino Capistrano, pass the railroad tracks, and it is on the left, right after the first shopping center,” I said. We followed the directions to a tee, but still managed to get lost. We drove in circles through the Ralph’s shopping center and saw nothing but small chain stores like Subway and Juice it Up. “Okay, how on earth is there a church in this small shopping center?” she asked. It was indeed confusing, for it wasn’t an ideal location for a congregation. “I know there are some small business back that way,” I said motioning to the left. We began looking at the addresses on the sides of the buildings, until we were led through the back alley to building 61132.
We both starred ahead at the darkened building before us. There was complete silence for a moment. “Do you think this is it?” Maggie asked apprehensively. We both gave each other a look. We got out of the car and looked through the window to see if we could find any spiritual pamphlets or something that would let us know we had arrived at the right place. We realized we had parked in the back of the establishment, and began walking towards the entrance. “Alright, if they begin to chant or sacrifice animals, we are outta here,” I told Maggie. “Oh ya, for suuure,” she laughed.
The door was wide open and a gust of light protruded through the opening. We looked above at the forest-green, carved, wooden sign reading, “Religious Science”. All eyes were on us as we walked through the lobby/bookstore area. The walls inside were a light peach color that reminded me of my grandmother’s home. Floral pictures were framed with a gold trim, surrounding every inch of the room. “Ya, definitely decorated by a grandma,” I thought to myself. There was a middle-aged woman to the right, in the bookstore area, with very blonde, almost white-colored hair and she wore a lime green zip-up jacket. An elderly man with fading gray hair and a flannel-patterned-button up, eyed Maggie and I. I assumed the look had something to do with my whore-dress. He probably thought we were street-walkers looking for refuge. To our right was the entrance to the spacious and empty sanctuary. We had arrived very early.
Maggie and I observed the establishment for a few minutes, trying to get a good read on what we were getting ourselves into. Everything seemed to be alright, so far. There weren’t any incantations written on the walls, or sounds of animals being slaughtered. We were safe. “Hey look at this,” Maggie said, motioning to the table behind us. Sprawled out on the table-top, were a variety of writings about the teachings of The Secret. Maggie raised one eyebrow, pursed her lips, and nodded in satisfaction. I responded with the same sequence of facial expressions. “Let’s go to the bathroom, ya?” she said. On our way to the ladies room, we noticed an assortment of photographs of different members of the congregation, with their title written below their picture. Ironically enough, they were all elderly women. “Great, there goes finding our future husbands,” I thought to myself. Maggie’s response wasn’t so superficial. “I think that’s real neat that they have women reverends,” she said pleasantly. “Oh yes definitely,” I said in agreement. “So, to the bathroom, eh?”
The bathroom reeked of stanky sewage, or perhaps animal carcasses (I really couldn’t let that thought go). There was a sixty-something woman, applying too much lipstick to her already stained mouth. Being the friendly girl that Maggie is, she immediately said hello. “Hello,” the woman retorted back in a very distinctive New York accent. I was guessing she was from Manhattan because her accent was too soft to be from Brooklyn, and not nasally enough to be from Long Island. It had enough sophistication and subtlety to be from the Dutch’s greatest island. Maggie went to the restroom, leaving me alone with the lipstick lady. I smiled at the woman in that awkward way and waited patiently for Maggie to be finished. I was still bitter about the lack of cute boys and didn‘t feel like being overly friendly. When Maggie emerged from the stall, the lipstick lady glanced at Maggie’s unique colored hair and said, “Oh, uh, that’s an interesting culla. You
must be a hair dress-a”. Maggie took the judgment in gracefully and kindly replied, “Oh yes, I get that all of the time. My friends always tell me I should be a hair dresser. I just like to try new things,” she explained. Well done. “Are you girls a third year,” the woman asked. Maggie and I both looked at each other in utter confusion. Okay, this was definitely a cult code of some sort. “Uh, no, we’re not. This is actually our first time here,” Maggie replied. “Oh, I see,” said the woman. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” Maggie said. I smiled at the woman once more in that same awkward way, and we headed towards the door.
“Third year?” I asked. “What the hell does that mean?” Maggie said. We walked to the empty sanctuary and looked around for a place to sit. There was a medium-sized stage towards the front of the room, with a large backdrop reading, “Commitment, financial, love.” Near the back of the room was a woman setting up for the service that was due to start in thirty minutes. We locked eyes with her and saw a warm smile develop on her aged face. “Hi there!” she said enthusiastically. She was absolutely radiant. She walked closer towards us and introduced herself. “I’m Judy, what are your lovely ladies names?” she asked. We acquainted ourselves with Judy and told her it was our first time at the church. She made us feel entirely welcomed and introduced us to another leader of the church named, Eileen. Eileen sat with Maggie and I until the service began. She was a lovely woman, who you could tell was once very beautiful in her day. She had defined cheekbones, clear blue eyes, and curly, golden locks. She was very poised and spoke eloquently. She answered every one of our questions in thorough detail and gave us a better understanding of their church and what they practiced.
The service was about to begin and more people came trickling in. I noticed up at the podium, a sheet of yellow construction paper saying in large, black lettering, “GET OVER IT. LET IT GO.” “Hmm, interesting,” I thought to myself. My attention instantly became diverted when Maggie brought up the topic of Aidan. Maggie and Aidan have been good friends for many years. I confessed my current crush to her after a crazy, drunken night, where I ended up staying the night at his house because I was too drunk to drive home. It was completely innocent, and certainly unplanned. I have known Aidan from a distance through Maggie for quite some time. It is very common to bump into Aidan during gatherings amongst our group of mutual friends. Aidan is a unique fellow of little words, and tons of mystery. When I first met him, I was pretty sure he didn’t like me at all.
My Random, Embarrassing, and Funny Night of Debauchery
