Waltzing into Hell

Did I ever regale you fellow readers of how I lost the most overtly religious friend I’ve ever had because she insisted I was hellbound over a pair of panties?  It's true of course, we are all keenly aware that if you believe in a place like hell and have come to understand me keenly enough that there will be a point where you will utter, "my god you're totally going to hell."  Come to think of it, stranger's utter it to me rather often.  In any case, I the queen of Pagan ways had one of the most overtly religious friends.

How was this even humanly possible?  Yes I am aware of the absurdity of it all too, but nevertheless I liked her.  She was in many way very kind.  Plus she was an animal lover so she couldn't be all bad right?  And then there was the fact that as different as my views can be she still wanted to be my friend, up and until the panty issue arose that is.  Now for all that I say, do, and believe; one would think that she'd have taken issue with who I was far sooner and over something far more substantial than a pair of barely there skivvies.  Alas no, it would be a scantily scarcely there set of skivvies that broke the christians moral dilemma of befriending me.

I remember laughing so hard that my sides hurt and tears ran down my face at her reaction to them.  To this day I cannot help but grin when remembering the look upon her face.  It was as though I had said to her that there was indeed no god and that her mother was once a junkie whore all rolled into one.  Her disgust was palpable, her rage tangible, and her shrieking...it was legendary.  You'd have thought that would have been her reaction to my pro-choice stance and not a pair of oh-la-la undies, but no I was setting trends and swinging for the fences.

I do wonder how the uptight young woman is every now and then, and wonder if her panties are still in a twist.  Then I picture her in granny panties and just smile.