Margaritas En Masse

If the term en masse is defined as "in a single body or group," then the powerful potion I imbibed on Friday was contained in my single body. And by powerful potion, I mean the 26 oz. salt-rimmed frozen mug kind.

It was my Friday "girls" night out with the Lovebrarian and my humor twin Watson. First stop was authenticate Mexican (for the Midwest) and a little love potion #9 - the frozen margarita. Or in my case, the sleep potion. Tequila is my slow-acting roofie. Guess I drugged myself. Bad rule of thumb if you plan to take advantage of yourself.

Not that I was planning on such a thing...

Anywho, Watson heard about this free Christmas concert going on that evening and thought it would be interesting for us to attend. It took place in a Catholic church, which is generally a no-fly zone for yours truly, but to be honest, I was desperate for a blog entry. What a "writer" will do for some good material!

Little should I have known the clue in the title... it was a Christmas concert alright. In a beautiful church. Where the congregation was so stoic, I thought it may have been a funeral. At a cemetery.

I can only imagine that I wasn't struck by lightning because my thoughts were too clouded. I confess: I may or may have not been tipsy. In a church. My margaritas en masse had become margaritas in Mass. And my head was swimming in a dazed haze, crawling through the strange passage of time, set to the sleepy backdrop of stoic caroling and chanting. If being boozy in church is bad form, then being dozy is just plain uncouth. I slipped in and out of consciousness. My powers were useless against them.

I don't know how the hell long we were there, but at one point, Watson, who was noticeably uncomfortable for us the whole time, said we should roll. And roll we did. She felt bad, being the only religious one of our trio, because the concert was a joy-bust. But hey, how would she have known? It wasn't her usual church.

After the spell broke, I did come away with a few thoughts. No more tequila for me. I passed out by 9:00 p.m. Bad news bears. And secondly, it was reaffirmed that I truly do not understand organized religion. I get that it moves people and provides meaning and inspiration. I can see how it lifts up others. But it just doesn't do anything for me... even when I've had a few.

Then again, maybe this visit wasn't the best example of a dry run (in more ways than one!).

4 comments:

Bubz The Troll said...

Sex, drugs, and alcohol move and inspire people too and they don't lecture you for going to church, unlike the reverse.

Army Mom said...

Army, you KNOW I always enjoy reading you. Being a Catholic myself, as you know, I can say that stoic can very much be a valid description of my faiths' mass. I see parishioners every week who come in to finish their morning sleep! While I do get something out of being there, I truly can understand what you're saying, and I recommend a good non-denominational visit some time. There really CAN be joy in going to church... sober or not! Love you!

Aaron said...

Speaking for those of us who have religious beliefs but extreme skepticism of organized religion, I'm not so sure that it was a holy faux pas to go to a CATHOLIC church tipsy/intoxicated. Maybe if you were in a holy roller Baptist church... (you would have been smote down by hell fire and brimstone). Here's the key to tequila: only drink it if intoxication is your ultimate goal. Drink 1 or 2, and, well, you've experienced the results.

Allie D. said...

I was going to say what Aaron said. Catholics are much more lax on the whole being drunk thing.

The trick, Chris, is to get over the "sleepy" hump by having one more drink. After that, you'll be all "RAZZLE DAZZLE!"

LOL