The P word and the V guy at the W reception.

The table was well positioned for my task at this gathering. My roommate had left our table at the wedding reception, venturing in search of… something, I did not know what. His fianse’s sister’s mother’s mother’s nephew’s cousin’s ….- somebody- leaned across the table to address me, whiles I sat, waiting for something interesting to prompt the application of my finger onto the “Record” button attached to the camcorder rig laying across my lap, as I quietly shoveled some expensive and cheesy potatoes into my mouth.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” , the elderly woman inquired, with a little sparkle in her eyes. I pushed some food around on my plate, and glanced up at her. I imagine that my lips were probably pursed.

“Well….” I carefully set my fork down across my plate, and folded my hands.

She smiled, “A lot of girlfriends?”

I didn’t quite have time to ponder why such a thing should prompt a smile. Boys will be boys will be … what? Anyway.

“I… hah, no…. not really, I mean,’ *swallow* *ahem* ‘there are a number of women in my life… but…. ah….”

I looked her squarely in the eye and began to recite.

“I took a vow some six years ago to not kiss until marriage… which makes it a little difficult to have an exclusive relationship, because almost everyone seems to define them based on physical involvement….. and I’m not entirely certain that’s it’s even possible to have one, morally, outside the confines of marriage or courtship. So… to answer your question: No… I’m not in any kind of exclusive relationship with a woman.”

“You’re quite a philosopher.”

“One either falls in love, or becomes one.”

“Well, I only meant to ask you if you were planning your own wedding.”

I smiled, “Most days… at some point. Small, maybe 2 dozen people, on a cliff, on one side, the choppy sea, the other, rolling green hills that stretch for miles. Wind howls through the scene, sending my bride’s train fluttering erratically and overpowering everyone’s ability to hear, but the heartbreaking amount of love sprung from the commitment in our eyes before God makes pitiful ritual and trite tradition a moon-cast shadow of that day’s -real- happenings and implications. My life will forever be changed.”

“Honeymoon?”

“Dunno. Cyprus?”

I prayed for a while about getting a more reliable source of income.

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