I Have a Friend ...Part 3 ...Celibate or Celebrate?

She'll only come out at night
The lean and hungry type;
Nothing is new, I've seen her here before
Watching and waiting...
Ooh, she's sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door
—Daryl Hall / Sara Allen / John Oates

I'm fed up with being celibate and decide it's time to celebrate.

Jack, my roommate at the seminary, can't believe my changed attitude nor the fact that I'm offering to buy rounds at the local beer joint.

Actually, it's less a beer parlour and more a pick-up place. The girls there don't give a damn about theologians like Thomas Aquinas—and unlike Jack and me, don't have a curfew either.

We get to The Pig and the joint’s hopping—it’s a big cavernous hall, divided into two sections by a low half wall.

The left side’s like an old fashioned beer parlour, men only, and the right side’s where the action is.

There’s a line-up to the women’s section, so we go to left, to the men’s side, knowing what courage a glass of beer can light in us.

Fast Eddie drops a tray of drafts and Jack hands him his fiver—that’s it for him for the night. I’ll be buying until lights out, unless we get lucky.

Jack chugs two drafts in quick succession and gives a satisfied belch. “Nothing like cool draft and hot chicks,” he says and his eyes are already glassy.

I smile. With any luck, he’ll pass out after the second round and I’ll save some cash on the evening.

“They’re going to put strippers in here, “ he enthuses. “I’ll be here every night.”

I believe him. He’ll be one of the pitiful regulars nursing their beer and hoping to win a few bucks by betting on the shuffleboard.

I’m beginning to feel a little nauseous, but I force myself to have fun.

Jack’s struck up a conversation with a dude at the next table and they’re going on about the Varsity hockey team. My eyelids are starting to flutter—like the votive candles in the chapel.

“Hey Stephen!”

I glance over to the women’s section and see Rita sitting at a mixed table of girls and guys.

Rita is not the kind of girl Father Tom, the chaplain back at the dorm would approve of— he'd probably want me to confess right on the spot and seriously reconsider my life's trajectory...

And he's probably be right.

Anyway, Rita waves me over and I leave Jack engrossed in his hockey dream while I navigate through wobbly tables to the doorway where I’m confronted by a huge bouncer.

“He’s with me,” Rita smiles up at him and grabs my arm, pulling me across the divide that separates the men from the boys.

Her eyes are dancing and my stomach's doing back-flips.

I'm totally out of my element and know it.

“I never see you in here—what brings you out tonight?”

“Boredom.”

“Aw, c’mon—a handsome guy like you? Don’t give me that.”

“Well, to tell the truth, a friend’s been ignoring me.”

She assumes I mean Jack and she looks over at him in animated conversation with the guy at the next table.

“He’s a loser anyway. You shouldn’t hang around with losers, Stephen—it’ll give you a bad reputation.”

Fast Eddie appears and his eyes widen seeing me here.

Eddie's a devout Catholic but that doesn't stop him from serving underage students, but he seems to draw the line at wayward seminarians.

He drops two trays of drinks anyway and I pay the tab regardless.

Hey, big spender!

There's that voice again! Either I'm losing it or God has sent the Hound of Heaven after me and he's on my trail.

“Did you hear that?” I croak, and look around wildly.

She shakes her head. “How can you hear anything in this joint?”

She can tell I'm wavering in my resolve but she suddenly gets a bright idea.

Her eyes widen. “You know what, this dive's too noisy—let’s go back to my place!”

Mom told me about girls like Rita, and I know all about the ways of the world.

O Lord save me, but not just now!

I'm on a slippery slope and know there are marvellous sunsets in hell, where my lust is taking me...

But fact is, I'm done, and right now I don’t give a damn.

To be continued…

© 2025, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

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