Date #56: Saint Dating

This entry could definitely be considered the gay version of the hilarious and chic Nick Hornby book How To Be Good.

Of course, when reading a Nick Hornby novel, one is entertained. When living one, you're ready to find a lenient physician and develop an oxy-cotin addiction.

All right, enough literary allusions, onto the show.

His name is Max.

MAX: Sorry I'm late.

He was late.

ME: No problem.

I was understanding.

MAX: I got done late at work.

We were eating at Jackie's Galaxy in Bristol. He's a former RWU boy, and he stayed in the area for his job--

MAX: I work with foster kids.

Honorable, needless to say.

Cut to us having a great date. We talked, we laughed, we ate noodles. It was heaven in two and a half rooms. Then I tried to set up another date with him.

MAX: Um, this weekend is bad for me. I'm doing major CYO Retreats Saturday and Sunday.

CYO? They still have CYO's? Don't get me wrong. I made my confirmation like a good little gay Catholic boy, but that's where me and the church went our separate ways.

MAX: I just really like being a part of the community.

I can understand that. Me and a group of my friends get together every Sunday to watch Desperate Housewives--we call it Homos and Housewives.

ME: What about sometime next week then?

He looked like he was about let me down easy.

MAX: It's just that with tutoring and CCD class--
ME: You teach CCD too?
MAX: Fifth graders.
ME: Get Jesus in there early, huh?
MAX: Amen.
ME: Oh Chri--kee, this is good lo mein.

Even though I didn't want to dump the guy based on his religious beliefs, I also didn't see how he could be dating anyone with his schedule. This is what happens when you meet a guy checking out the King James Bible in the library where you work.

I tried calling him again a couple of times during the week.

MAX: I had such a breakthrough with one of my kids today.

MAX: During class today, one of my kids confided in me that she's never felt loved by anyone but God.

MAX: Today at the soup kitchen--

I knew I had to get out before lepers became involved. The boy just had goodness radiating out of him. So the phone calls stopped. I still received one or two more from him, but it just didn't seem worth pursuing.

MAX: Sorry I've been so busy, but this weekend I learned so much about who I am and where I want to be in my life. Please call me, I'd really like to talk with you.

I didn't know what to do. How do you blow off someone who's that good-hearted? Does that make me a bad person? Am I frustrated more by the fact that he's so busy or by the fact that he makes me feel bad about myself because he's such a saint?

FRIEND: Dump the freak.
ME: He's not a freak.
FRIEND: Boy teaches Jesus to juveniles. I ain't havin' no part of that.
ME: I thought you liked corrupting people?
FRIEND: That's before they start leading CYO retreats.
ME: So you don't think I should call him back?
FRIEND: Not unless he's hiding a fetish for leather.
ME: That's doubtful.
FRIEND: Honey, there's no room for kindness in homosexuality all in one person. Trust me on that one.

This convo, of course, made me want to call Max. When I did, he informed me of the following:

MAX: I'm going into the seminary.

Na-who-what-what?

MAX: I want to do something important with my life.

Oh Christ, alert the altar boys.

MAX: The truth is, if not for this, I was probably going to enter into an aversion program. I've never really been okay with being gay. I think it's an awful way of life.

ME: Yeah well, tell me how sweet life is when you can't watch porn and you're running church bingo every week.

With that, I hung up...on a future priest.

Does this mean I'm going to Hell?