Peter the Priest
Since judging apple pies together, Peter the Priest and I have started hanging out more often. Peter the Priest. That’s what I call him. Maybe one would think it is because of St. Peter guarding the Heaven’s golden arches, but it’s not.
Peter the Priest said to me, “I saw The Residents are in South America. Doesn’t that make you feel a bit strange.”
I said, “You are in the same boat, you are here and the Pope is in Rome.”
“And I feel a bit strange,” he added.
Peter the Priest did feel a bit strange. The Pope was coming to the USA and even if his Popemobile never pulled up to Peter the Priest’s church, somehow everything needed to be fixed and cleaned. I volunteered to help out. That is what friends do.
We were polishing the silver when Peter started small talk, first explaining that he had two mothers. I stopped polishing for a moment, then went back to work without comment. He explained that he was reared by his mother and his mother’s twin sister after his father died in Vietnam. He liked the idea of having two mothers, especially since they looked the same.
The problem was that he was taught differently than other boys. Like he was taught to pee sitting down. He said his sex education was quite stunted since he decided to become a priest at an early age and his moms were seriously Catholic.
Then he told me that he had always been attracted to the Bible passages concerning Jesus washing people’s feet.
I suggested that having a foot fetish was fairly common and not in any way dangerous to society. That if Jesus had a foot fetish then Christians in general should regard people with foot appreciation as marked for greatness.
Peter wondered if asking to wash people’s feet would raise eyebrows.
“Yes,” I told him, “Yes it would. People are very selective about what parts of the Bible they want to apply to modern life. He could point out Jesus washing feet all he wanted, but Jesus might have sported a chubby under those robes and that would be a Christian turn-off.”
Personally I totally think getting a chubby is normal and healthy. Even babies get them.
He looked up and asked, “Can I wash your feet.”
I asked, “Are you going to get a chubby?”
Ignoring me, he said that I was the only person he knew he could ask. An awkward compliment.
I had already made a positive statement about foot appreciation. I wasn’t certain if it meant I was cheating on Roman, but I said I would accept a foot washing. That is what friends do.
So Peter washed my feet. He did so delicately and with propriety.
Afterward, there was a moment of intimate awkwardness as he put his foot washing materials away.
I wiggled my clean toes in the air. I had gained a new appreciation of the Bible.
Since judging apple pies together, Peter the Priest and I have started hanging out more often. Peter the Priest. That’s what I call him. Maybe one would think it is because of St. Peter guarding the Heaven’s golden arches, but it’s not.
Peter the Priest said to me, “I saw The Residents are in South America. Doesn’t that make you feel a bit strange.”
I said, “You are in the same boat, you are here and the Pope is in Rome.”
“And I feel a bit strange,” he added.
Peter the Priest did feel a bit strange. The Pope was coming to the USA and even if his Popemobile never pulled up to Peter the Priest’s church, somehow everything needed to be fixed and cleaned. I volunteered to help out. That is what friends do.
We were polishing the silver when Peter started small talk, first explaining that he had two mothers. I stopped polishing for a moment, then went back to work without comment. He explained that he was reared by his mother and his mother’s twin sister after his father died in Vietnam. He liked the idea of having two mothers, especially since they looked the same.
The problem was that he was taught differently than other boys. Like he was taught to pee sitting down. He said his sex education was quite stunted since he decided to become a priest at an early age and his moms were seriously Catholic.
Then he told me that he had always been attracted to the Bible passages concerning Jesus washing people’s feet.
I suggested that having a foot fetish was fairly common and not in any way dangerous to society. That if Jesus had a foot fetish then Christians in general should regard people with foot appreciation as marked for greatness.
Peter wondered if asking to wash people’s feet would raise eyebrows.
“Yes,” I told him, “Yes it would. People are very selective about what parts of the Bible they want to apply to modern life. He could point out Jesus washing feet all he wanted, but Jesus might have sported a chubby under those robes and that would be a Christian turn-off.”
Personally I totally think getting a chubby is normal and healthy. Even babies get them.
He looked up and asked, “Can I wash your feet.”
I asked, “Are you going to get a chubby?”
Ignoring me, he said that I was the only person he knew he could ask. An awkward compliment.
I had already made a positive statement about foot appreciation. I wasn’t certain if it meant I was cheating on Roman, but I said I would accept a foot washing. That is what friends do.
So Peter washed my feet. He did so delicately and with propriety.
Afterward, there was a moment of intimate awkwardness as he put his foot washing materials away.
I wiggled my clean toes in the air. I had gained a new appreciation of the Bible.