The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Confessional

When I was a little boy, My neighbor Lisa convinced me to play a game with her that she created. The games rules were fairly simple. We'd walk into the small space between her house and the house next door and then would each show a normally clothed area of our body to the other person. It's an innocent game that lots of kids likely play, and after about 8 weeks of this, I still have images burned in my head (could this be why I'm gay?).

However I had a Roman Catholic grandmother that I faced, and with that...I had guilt. Big guilt. When it came to the display of her snatch...I snitched. And my grandmother made feel incredibly ashamed about the whole situation, forcing me to promise that I would have to tell the priest of my transgressions on my first confession, which I'd be attending 3 years later.

For the next 1095 days, I dreaded that first confession. During the catholic school training where we had "practice" confessions leading up to our real one, I used to imagine what would happen if I had to tell the nun that I had seen and touched a girl "down there". I imagined her dragging me out into the hallways, so that everyone could see the little devil monster I was...doomed to fire and brimstone.

We had gone through the basic sacrament training (which I have no real memory of now) and had been explained that our first confession would be in the "booth". The booth at Sacred Heart Church was the standard priest in the middle with two side booths that had lights over the top. If the red light was on...somebody was in there confessing their sins.

My last name is Doyle, which is fairly close to the front of the alphabet, and because of that, I was told I'd be in the first group. We were brought to the church for a final dress rehersal the day before the big event (and the day before the priest would drag me before the class screaming what a dirty boy I was), when the nun in charge told us of the exciting news.

The Roman Catholic Pope in all his wisdom had approved "FACE-to-FACE" confessions and that my group would be the group facing Father Unger when it came time to tell our sins. I nearly fainted. The last thing I wanted to do was tell Father Unger (the stern one) that I touched Lisa's pussy (although I didn't understand why my dad called it that). Instead, sweating, I went home and stressed about it quite a bit.

Enough to call my mom and tell her my issue. Her suggestion was to just not tell that sin and then she asked to speak to my grandmother to likely bitch her out for scaring the hell out of me. Relieved at her advice, I was able to relax enough and try to eat a little dinner before getting ready for bed.

I should have known it was too good to be true. My grandmother, upon tucking me in for the night, informed me that I should tell the priest EVERY SINGLE SIN or I would not have absolution and would burn in hell. She pointed out that my mother was not religious and would likely suffer on her death.

Catholicism...good times.

The day of our first confession, I dressed in my Catholic school uniform, considered faking sick and seeing the school nurse. I would have done nearly anything to not have to face that man in black. Walking into the back area, I got on my knees and started with the Pre-prayer. (on a side note...I recently heard that one of the priests had molested some kids in that back area...but I'm not completely sure if that's true).

And then I launched into the big sins. I lied, I cheated, I stole, I disobeyed my family, I jay walked, I swam without waiting a half hour after eating...I tried to think of anything else that I could tell that would put off the inevitable. And then...staring at the monhogany paneling on the wall, told him that I had seen Lisa's Poonany.

25 "Hail Mary"'s and 50 "Our Father"'s and I was forgiven. That was the scariest thing I had ever done and would be that way for a very long time.

Giving the boyfriend this blog address and saying he could read the entire thing was scarier.

Patrick - 2:20 PM -

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