Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I eavesdropped again at 7th and Montana this morning ... and I'm sure you would, too, if you saw what I saw. Sitting right there at the table next to me was a Priest busy counseling a member of his flock, a woman in her early forties. "Jackpot!," I muttered, whipping out my Spycam, "I've stumbled into a confessional. This should be interesting." But it wasn't. The woman -- damn her -- was speaking in hushed tones, so all I could make out was that she was frustrated about something. And the Priest -- heaven help us -- was mumbling. Every now and then I think he used the word "rosary," but then again, he might have been calling her "Rosemary." I felt like grabbing him by the collar and saying, "For the love of God, man, enunciate ... a blog entry hangs in the balance!" But no, I kept my mouth shut and missed their entire conversation. I tell you, nothing is sacred anymore ...!
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3 comments:
How dare them not speak up? Now we will never know but thanks for trying.
Bless you my son!
Say five hail marys and five our fathers and bless you my child!
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