In the last two weeks it has been brought to my attention that I am a Devil worshipper because I haven’t accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior to which I replied that I didn’t believe in titles and would therefore never call anyone ‘Lord’, and that the only person I trusted to be in charge of saving me was me. This did not go over very well and unfortunately this conversation happened while I was out on a date, which appropriately turned into the Date From Hell.

We will call him Good Catholic Boy. Good Catholic Boy is an investment broker, is slightly younger than me, owns his own home, drives a nice car, works out to the point of obsession, is financially stable and is fervently devoted to the Pope. Now don’t anybody get upset with me, I don’t have anything against the old man but I don’t have anything for him either. I think the only thing that the Pope and I would agree on is the fact that I would make a terrible Catholic. I question everything, I never learned to say a proper prayer, I have always believed that Mary Magdalene got a bad rap because Jesus knew she was more intelligent than all of the disciples put together, and when I did go to church I drank the communal wine because it gave me a buzz and not because it was the blood of Christ. I think the Pope and I would part ways knowing that the Catholic church was much better off without me, but this was not a good enough excuse for Good Catholic Boy. Good Catholic Boy thinks that there are only two kinds of people in the world, Catholics and the lost souls who are going to burn in the eternal fires of Hell because they are not Catholic, and according to him I have a first class ticket. G.C.B. ended the date when I told him that I was a pagan and that I didn’t believe in organized religion and that my mother and my sister were practicing witches. For some reason my statement seemed to agitate him and he drove me home a little faster than was necessary.

I was ready to write him off but surprisingly he called the next day and the day after that and we found out that we had a lot in common, the same love of Thai food, movies, the same taste in music, the same longing to be in a stable relationship, and I thought that this could be the beginning of a really great friendship, possibly even a relationship. We went out on several dates and ended up having a really great time together which is why I was completely blind sided by our final conversation. G.C.B. informed me that he couldn’t date a woman whose sister was a witch because she might put a curse on him. Yes you heard right. I was not dating material because my heathen sister would stir her cauldron and cast horrible demonic spells to make his life agony, and I was also the Devil Incarnate for turning my back on Christ. I tried to tell him that Devil worship had no place in the craft but he would not listen, all he wanted to do was tell me that I was evil and then have phone sex with me. Again you heard right. G.C.B. began to tell me what he wanted to do to his naughty pagan right there and then. I couldn’t believe my ears when he went into detail of how he wanted to treat me; all thoughts of him being a G.C.B. left my mind and he suddenly turned into a sexually disturbed man. The only thing I knew to do was laugh. And I did. Heartily. Cackled if you want the truth. I wanted to tell him that I thought he was already cursed but I couldn’t get the words out because I was convulsing. I was consumed with the vision of G.C.B. praying to his photograph of the Pope for deliverance from the clutches of the demonic whore/witch, a.k.a. me. I ended up telling him that he disgusted me and that I thought he was a hypocrite for spouting on and on about living a clean and spiritual life while telling me at the same time where he’d like stick his dick.

I haven’t heard from him since. He’s probably off somewhere flogging or playing with himself depending on his mood. I do know one thing for sure though, if the mood strikes him I can guarantee that he won’t be calling me.

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