On Friday morning, I woke up a little early. While lying there, I realized I could go to
Confession and morning Mass. I really
needed to go to Confession, and didn’t want to wait until Saturday
evening. However, I was very tired and I
really didn’t want to go. At all. I wanted to go so little, I decided I was
probably being persuaded not to go. That
made me grumpy. It’s one thing when I am
simply too lazy to go, but it’s another matter altogether if I feel like I’m
being supernaturally tempted not to go.
So rather than letting the devil win in the very first skirmish of my
day, I very grumpily got dressed and went out.
It’s about a 15 minute drive to get there, and is in a
different city. I live in a very well to
do suburb. When I go out at 6:45 AM in
the morning, there is no one out, except for maybe the occasional disgusting
person out jogging. Show offs. But then I get to the neighborhood of the
Church, and it’s completely different.
It is in a poor neighborhood. And
people are everywhere. The Church is in
the middle of a residential neighborhood.
To get there, I drive by a gas station on the same street of the
Church. The gas station was a hub of
activity. Not with people getting gas
mind you, just people going in and out of the store. In fact, as I was looking at the people
walking in and out, I had a brief scare when I looked back to the road, and saw
a lady who looked like she was about to walk in front of the car.
I make it to Church, and I go in. But, the door is locked. Then I realized, that because it was a Friday
in Lent, they probably canceled Confession and morning Mass, for Stations and
Mass in the evening. This did absolutely
nothing to improve my mood. I had
another 15 minute drive back, and I wouldn’t be able to get to Confession until
at least Saturday evening.
Driving back, on the same road as the gas station, I passed
by that same woman from before. She was
on the same side of the street, as she when I almost “hit” her. That seemed odd to me, because it looked like
she was trying to cross again. On seeing
her again, I figured she should have either been in the store at the gas
station, or already back and on her way.
Not going back in again. As I
drove by her, it seemed like she was trying to wave me down, and I thought I
heard her shout something. I kept
driving, and thought “I didn’t want to go to Church. I drag myself here, and it’s locked. Now a lady is trying to flag me down. Blast those Angels who got me out here, I
just want to go home and back to bed!”
So I slam my hand down on the wheel, roll down the window, and put the
car in reverse.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Can I come in your car and get warm? I just want to sit and get warm, that’s
all. I’m freezing. Here, feel my hand.”
I did and it was indeed very cold. Now I had to think a little. In this neighborhood, her asking to get in
the car to get warm was not exactly the question I was expecting to receive
from a lady at that horrible dark hour of the morning. Ahem.
And given the nature of this neighborhood, and feeling that it would do
nothing to improve my mood if I were to get stabbed, I asked her if she would
mind getting in the back. The words
weren’t fully out, before she had the back door open and she hopped in.
“Sorry, about the back, I have a bunch of things up here in
the front seat.”
“It’s fine. Thanks. Turn up the heat. Are you Catholic?” She noticed my Rosary hanging from the rear view
mirror.
“Yes. I was just on
my way to Confession and Mass, but the Church is locked.”
At this point I didn’t get a good look at her. She was white, of an indeterminate age, wearing
a decent looking coat, and jeans.
Throughout this story, keep in mind that when I ask her questions that
she doesn’t feel comfortable answering, she would mumble and give neither a
straight nor coherent answer. The poor
girl was frozen solid and I asked her if she lived in the area. Mumbling she said something that sounded
like, “Yes, but I can’t get in right now.”
It sort of sounded like her roommate wouldn’t answer the door. I figured they were asleep and for whatever
the reason, she was unable to wake them up in order to get in.
Realizing it was a sore subject, I didn’t know quite else
what to say, so I said she could just sit here as long as she needed. After a brief pause in talking she asked, “Could
you give me some money for food at the gas station? You can buy it for me if you want.”
“Well, I haven’t had breakfast yet, would you like to join
me?”
“Yeah.” And she
directed me to a little diner just down the street from the gas station. This place.
I’ve driven by it many times. And
there is a reason I’ve never stopped. I
like dives, I go to many around here, but this place has a uniquely downtrodden
atmosphere to it that has kept me from ever visiting.
As I turn into the parking lot she asks, “You were going to
Confessing?”
“Yes, I’ve got a lot of demons, and I need to go. But I suppose it was a good thing that it was
locked, because then I would have never met you.”
We go in. I was
dressed in my work clothes, slacks, a nice button down shirt, dress shoes, and
my best winter coat. Each article may
have cost more than the entire outfit of any given person in there. There was a table of 4 older gentlemen,
drinking coffee and playing lottery tickets before they had to go to work or
start their days. There was also a
younger woman, who my woman (we’ll call her Kay) knows. They talked for a little bit but in very
hushed tones, and I couldn’t make out any of it. I did hear that the other woman was looking
for a phone to use, so I handed her mine.
A little shell-shocked by all of this, I didn’t watch her, but on later
inspection I learned she either didn’t use it or deleted whatever number
entered.
Kay and I ordered. We
each had a slice of chocolate pie, and a normal breakfast too. I ordered two eggs over-medium and cinnamon
toast. Kay ordered two eggs, hashbrowns,
bacon, and toast. It was a huge plate of
food. It was like two or three of my
typical meals. Kay then proceeded to pour
on a ton of salt, pepper, and ketchup.
In my mind she completely ruined the meal, but she ate nearly all of
it. It was impressive. I was also able to take a good look at her. She had dyed blonde hair, but there were some
other shades in there from previous colorings.
It looked like spots were missed, so maybe it was hand done by a
non-professional. She had on a lot of
foundation, but no other major makeup. I
could not tell you her age, or even make a guess. Somewhere between 20 and 40. She looked as though she lived a rough
life. She was of a healthy build, not
under or over weight from what I could tell.
She appeared and acted completely sober.
She was very cold.
She drank a few cups of coffee but it took a while for her to warm up.
“Were you outside all night?”
Mumbling, “Yeah, well sort of, no, yes.”
Kay: “When you go Confessing do you do it in a small room
like a box?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Alone?”
“Well, the Priest is there.”
“Oh yeah, right. I’m
non-denominational. You’re a good
Catholic.”
“Haha. Just keep in
mind that what makes a good Catholic, aren’t just the Saints, which I’m absolutely
not, but also those who are making the struggle to try and be a good Catholic.”
“That makes sense.”
I tried to make chit-chat about restaurants and how I’m new
to area and still exploring, and that I hadn’t been to this one before. She told me she really likes a local Burrito
chain, but that conversation didn’t last long.
Me: “Do you live around here?”
“Yes.”
“Is your family here too.”
“My parents are dead.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“I do. They live in
Florida.”
“Oh, Florida is really warm.
You should go there. When was the
last time you saw them.”
“5 years ago. Do you
have children?”
“No.”
Without any hesitation, barely letting that come out of my
mouth, and with no regard for the other patrons, she asks, “Are you a virgin?”
“Yes.”
“No, you aren’t!”
“Haha, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have a lot of luck with women, and I want to wait until I'm married”
“I’ve never met a man before who is a virgin!”
“Do you have children?”
“No, but I want them.
What do you do?”
“I’m an engineer. An electrical
engineer.”
“Oh, I bet that pays well.”
“Yes, it pays the bills.”
Now throughout this, I didn’t always keep eye contact. I knew some of my questions, even though
standard get to know you questions, might make her feel uncomfortable, so I
tried to avoid her eyes to make it a little easier for her. I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad, or
thinking bad things about her. I was
just curious. Now once the initial shock
of the situation wore off later in the day, I thought of possibly better ways I
could have expressed myself, to maybe show a little more affirmation and love
for her, but I did the best I could at the time. For example, I avoided her eyes when I then
asked her, “What do you do?”
Mumbling and displaying clearly uncomfortable body language,
“I’m a dancer… Adult…Industry…KRWh.” I
couldn’t really hear the end. I think
she was saying where she works, but I couldn’t be sure and decided it was best
not to ask her for clarification.
Towards the very end, she shyly asked, “Could you tell me
what you were going to say at Confessing (she never did get the language quite
right)?” Now it was my turn to be
uncomfortable. I didn’t want to tell her
and then have her think or say, “Really?
That’s you biggest problem?” It
could possible make her feel bad if it brought her to reflect on her own
situation. Also given her job, I wasn’t
sure if she would understand some of what I had to say. But I told her anyway. Haha, but I’m not telling you! I told her the 3 main things I was going to
say. For each of them, the only way I
could describe her looks was motherly.
But like a mother who has a child saying they did something wrong, and
is trying to look serious but is secretly hiding mirth. It was the only time, she showed any sort of
genuine happiness (well she did get a big hit out of my lack of experience with
girls), but also hidden under a sincere mask of “yes, those are good things to
work on.”
She decided it was time we headed out, and we left. I cleared off the front seat, and let her in.
Me: “Okay, can I take
you somewhere that you can get in?”
“Yes, but I need some money to go home.”
Thinking she was talking about a bus, “No, don’t worry about
it. I’ll drive you home.”
“That’s fine, but could you just please give me some money
to go home?”
“No. I just spent all
the cash I have on breakfast (where we went only accepts cash).”
“You can go to an ATM.”
“Come on, you have a paying job. I’ll just drive you home.”
At this point, I sensed a change in her. There was the beginning of panic in her
voice, and a change in body language that made me realize something was not
right. She then began the mumbling
again.
“You don’t understand.
I need money to go in home…sqwpuk puwex…roommates are addicts…”
“Ahhh. Okay. Where I can find an ATM?” I like to think she was just a little late on
rent. And I think about Jesus’ Good
Samaritan. He didn’t just address the
person’s immediate problem, he gave the person some pocket change for later.
She told me the gas station has an ATM and that she thought
she was going to cry. Then I couldn’t
help it. I burst out laughing, “We couldn’t
be from more opposite worlds could we?”
“I don’t know about that.
You’re Catholic and I’m non-denominational, but God looks on all of us
the same.”
“You’re right. That’s
right.” Inside I was still
laughing. Apparently it went completely
over her head, that I’m a boring engineer in my boring apartment with my rut
life, and she’s possibly a prostitute living in a crack house. No discrepancy there at all.
At this point, she told me she’s writing a book about her
experiences. She also asked me to pray
for her. She made a point of telling me
that, bringing it up a few times towards the end. I told her I would, but that she needs to
pray for me. I didn’t tell her why,
because I didn’t want to confuse her or upset her. She is in a horrible situation. No parents or other family around, apparently
late on rent, and has to work all night long.
God is going to be so merciful to her.
But I have no excuse, and am generally deplorable. So Kay, you storm Heaven for me.
As we pulled into the gas station she goes back to our
conversation at breakfast. “Do you date?”
“Sure I do. I just
don’t have much luck that’s all. My last
girlfriend decided to become a nun.”
“So that means she can never have sex, right!?”
“Haha, yes, I suppose that’s right.”
Now, I have another tricky situation. She is cold, and the ATM is in the inside of
the store. She sees me hesitate and
says, “I won’t take your car.”
“Please, don’t take my car.”
I’m so shell-shocked, I can’t even figure out how to use the
ATM. I had to ask the clerk to help
me. When I come back out, she looks like
she is trying to sleep, curled up in the fetal position on the front seat. Pulling out, there is a big pole that I’m
trying to avoid on my left. So I’m not
paying attention to her or as much to my right.
All of a sudden the right window is down and she is talking to
someone. I look over and it’s a
roughened black man. I hear her say, “What!?”
“Got a smoke? Smokes?” “Oh, no, I don’t. I don’t smoke.” To me:
“Sorry about that, I thought he was trying to talk to me. You can go.”
Now completely out of it, I take her home. But it doesn’t end there. The house, was the same house she was
standing in front of when I picked her up.
I was so confused. If she couldn’t
get in before, I didn’t know what changed now.
Maybe the residents were up?
Maybe she now had the money she needed to get in? In any event, she told me again to pray for
her, gave me a hug, and was gone. I
drove up a little bit, out of her sight, but waited and watched through my rear
view mirror to see if she was going to walk right back out into the street. She didn’t, and I drove home.
I came back to my boring life and apartment. I opened the door, stepped in, and let out a
big breathy contented sigh.
