The Religious Slow-Talker

Now I am someone that goes to church, however, I am a rather unconventional Christian.  I believe in karma, past lives, chakras, energies, auras, and great sex.  Married or not.  Now don’t get me wrong, I am not talking about having random indiscriminate sex.  That’s just foolish, and we all know sex is better when you are with someone you care about.  I also think it’s very easy to say “premarital sex is a sin” when you are married.

So, I go to church pretty regularly.  I enjoy the Christian rock they play.  I take what I like from the sermons and keep my eccentricities to myself.

I recently met a very handsome well built construction worker/ developer.  I’m not sure what to call him exactly but he “flips” houses.  He buys up a house at a bargain, makes needed repairs and then quickly turns around and sells it to make a profit.  

The new guy is pretty great, a church goer and a big fan of sex.  “It’s my weakness” he says, and confesses that he feels a little guilty but “it’s SO f’n gooood!”    Which I think is adorable, and so, set up a date to meet this rebel with a horny cause.  Dinner at a pretty romantic lodge, live music included.

He’s such a terrific flirt via text message, with loads of sexual innuendo but nothing too overt.  We have easy conversation over the phone too so I am excited for our date.

I am, however, wondering what he is expecting.  We talked so much about sex (what can I say, it may well by my very favorite subject!) that I wondered if I’d show up with him having rented a room at th hotel where we were having dinner.  He had made quite a point of saying it’s hard to find a Christian girl who like sex.  Typical me, I thought “WHAT?  Who doesn’t like sex?”

It was a delight to see him dressed just right, not too casual, not too formal.  He had these big broad shoulders I could just imagine putting my hands on, however, he seemed a little awkward in person and wasn’t much of a smiler.

We walked in to dinner and talked so much that we had to send the waitress away twice before we were ready to order.  Or maybe it was just that he was talking SO slowly that we couldn’t wrap things up to look at the menu.  I mean, several times I had to consciously remind myself to stop interrupting him.  I am a paid communicator, and all I could think was “get to the point!” 

As we talked I also noticed he kept saying things like “when I’m not livin’ right….”  Ooooh, blaring holy roller sign!! 

He had lived quite an interesting life.  He had been in a major accident and walked away without a scratch. 

He had a degree in photography and ran his own business doing that until he got into construction. 

He also spent five weeks in Alaska with his Uncle who is a hunting guide.  He went into Wild Alaska with big game hunters who would not campfires, heaters, or even speak in anything louder than a whisper. 

He spent 11 straight days camping, in Alaska, with no heating and speaking only in whispers!  “It wasn’t fun” he remarked and I laughed saying it sounded like my own personal nightmare.

At one point his group shot a bison the size of a Volkswagen and had to stand out in a field for hours chopping it up to fit it into packs and haul it back to camp.  Oh, no vehicles either! 

Now Alaska is the home of the Kodiak bear, and they are aggressive predators.  While the crew was dismantling the bison there were two men standing guard with rifles in waist high grass praying that a Kodiak didn’t see the birds circling and sneak up on them and decimate their hunting party.

Although he had some very interesting stories, The Religious Slow Talker, did not have the ability to tell a great story.  His stories seemed lifeless and unenthusiastic.  He continue to talk in slow motion, and he meandered through the events with no certain beginning middle or end.  Because The Religious Slow Talker could not convey his stories well, he came off as boring.

It didn’t help that he confessed that he almost never makes it past an 8:30 bedtime.  (He’s only 30!)

At this point I was also realizing that he’s a little shy.  We were seated in front of a roaring fire and there was a singer with a silky voice like James Taylor, who was singing all of the most beautiful romantic songs I’d ever heard, and yet he never asked me to dance.  I suggested we take a walk on the gorgeous deck but he insisted it was too dark to see anything.  My God, I thought, how on earth did this guy ever get laid? 

By the end of dinner he was  completely preocccupied with making it home for his early bedtime, and was talking about his tentative plans to move to Arizona.  Apparently, things weren’t clicking for him either!

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Published in: on February 16, 2011 at 5:25 am  Leave a Comment  
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