Never on Sunday

It was deemed by the behavioral experts to be termed the formative years of adolescence. The teenagers. Most of which were acne challenged while mainly focusing on one primary subject....Sex. It was during this time period of puberty, I was not spared the ramifications of solving the confusing mystery of what treasures lie beneath the undergarments of one, Carol Stirokowsky.

It was also this transition and metamorphosis from a sweet, impressionable young lad to hormone imbalanced teenager things drastically changed in my life. Each night as I closed my eyes, instead of riding horseback exploring the wide open prairies of Bonanza or venturing into space aboard the Starship Enterprise, I found myself debating the eternal question within the darkness of my room whether it be Ginger or Mary Ann. Indeed, under a romantically displayed full moon and wonderous star filled sky, which delightful lady would receive my sex starved fantasy of uninhibited affection.

As many of my cohorts recanted tales of their masculine achievement, the young lions bragged of their sexual attractiveness to the opposite sex. Each of them took great pleasurable bragging of the success of their Saturday night Drive in Movie conquests. One in particular was Bobby Hodgkins. His future calling for a richly rewarding career was to be in media broadcasting. Bobby had the natural born ability to convey to an audience, a visual message of his tactical romantic movements on his date that would make you feel as if you were right there in the back seat watching the action live and in living color.

Most of the gang I grew up with at that time never completely lied about their accomplishments on Saturday night dates. However, we did have a tendency to embellish and exaggerate a bit on the successes. Of course these debates of what did or did not occur came under verbal fire quite often. After a lengthy discussion at a McDonalds drive though one evening, it was decided that whoever got lucky reserved the right to display an air filled condom from their automobile antenna. It was to be a symbol or a victory pennant for going all the way to the top of the ladder.

One thing was for certain. If I was ever going to go all the way with Carol Stirkowsky, there was not a snowball chance in Hell that she would allow me to fly a condom from my parent’s car antenna. As each Saturday passed, Bobby Hodgkins agenda was to show off and drive all over town all day Sunday and point to his antenna to insure each one of saw his symbol of achievement. The air filled condom swaying in the breeze tied securely to his metallic flag pole of his automobile. This grew quite tiresome as well as annoying. I was determined to take Bobby down a peg or two and prove to him he wasn’t the only one who could actually hit a home run instead of struggling just to reach first base.

After a lot of pleading and begging and a gift box of cream filled Scooter Pies, I finally got a date with Ellen Masterson. Now Ellen wasn’t exactly the kind of girl you would bring home to meet your parents and introduce her as the girl of your dreams. Please don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t as if Ellen was the Beast from Planet X; however, Ellen had a tendency to snort though her nose whenever she laughed or giggled. The ghastly sound that erupted from her nose and mouth sounded as if a water buffalo had escaped from the zoo. However, despite this shortcoming, Ellen was always ready to entertain the troops if you promised to buy her triple decker club sandwich with extra mayo and assure her repeatedly that for a fat girl she didn’t sweat much. If you ever were going to get lucky, Ellen was the favorite to put your money on.

Although, the beginning of our heavy petting parking session appeared promising, the monthly timing of our date was most unfortunate. With this unexpected turn of events, I could not truthfully display my diploma as a figure of my achievements. I took her home when I learned of the abdominal cramps. She quite suddenly just wasn’t quite prepared for a romantic interlude. Frustration embraced me and I was quite distressed! I debated the issue over in my head. It was still very early Saturday evening. I still had the foil pouch condom. I turned it over in my hand several times arguing with myself. Now the only ones that knew nothing had occurred was Ellen and I. For the most part, she was home and most probably in bed so I put my plan into motion.

I decided to do some bragging and display the condom from my parent’s car antenna regardless of what happened. I raced to the areas I knew my friends would be at and blew the car horn and pointed to my trophy. It was as if I were in a ticker tape parade. Cheers and thumbs up from the gang had me feeling fine on Cloud Nine. I bluffed and lied my way though the evening. Surely now I would no longer be addressed by my peers as Virgin Boy. My euphoria continued to nearly midnight at which time I parked my parent’s car into the garage and closed another chapter of my life.

Being a member of the catholic parish, one of my religious duties was the collection the monetary donations during the nine o’clock Sunday services. This was done by extending a pole down the length of a pew in which the parishioners placed their personal currency offerings into a wicker basket. I showered, dressed and walked the short distance to the church to perform my morning ritual still reflecting on the events of the previous evening.

My folks were in attendance as the choir sang in harmony while the priest celebrated the Mass at the altar. On cue, I gathered the collection pole and worked my way toward the rear of the church, pew by pew. My mother signaled me with her index finger to come closer to enable her to whisper something to me. She had that creased forehead and a quizzical look surounding her facila features.

“Charles, would you please tell your father and I why there is a condom tied to the antenna of the car?”

I gasped and dropped the entire basket of currency containing the donations onto the floor. Coins of every denomination crashed which then scattered and rolled in every direction along the tiled floor. It seemed the entire congregations eyes turned toward us and the direction of the disruption.

I stuttered and licked my lips. Attempting to be appear innocent, I was temporarily completely at a loss for any response.

“A what?,” I replied. I knitted my eyebrows together and did my best to appear shocked that such a confused thing happened. “Did you say there is a condom on the car antenna?”

“Yes, Charles. A prophylactic. Father O’Brien pointed it out when he crossed in front of the car as we pulled into the church parking lot. He was heading toward the church and it happened to slide down the antenna onto the hood. He happened to be quite taken back by it and I’m sure he’d be interested in knowing how it got to be there as well.”

“Must be someone’s attempt at a joke,Mom.” I snickered shrugging my shoulders to accompany by nervousness. I was looking every which way except into the faces of my parents.

“Well that’s what your father suggested also. But when your father opened the glove compartment to get the parking pass, there was a lady’s girdle stuffed in there as well. I looked at it and it definately isn't mine, Charles.” She placed the tip of her fingernail against her front teeth awaiting an answer.

“Oh that, Yes well you see...” I stammered once again staring down at my shoes. “Well, Mom, can we talk about this outside?” I mean everyone in here is kind of staring at us.” I could feel the beads of perspiration begin to form on my forehead.

The attendees which were seated in front of my parents turned face us. One of them in particular asked if it were possible for me to explain now. Naturally, I refused. My father, who had been silent through the entire episode leaned over waved me still closer toward him.

“Charles, after Mass, take the condom off the car and throw it away and give the girdle back to its rightful owner so you don’t scare your mother half to death again. Now, if you get anymore trophies, make sure they are the kind you can put on a mantle, not hide in a glove compartment or tie to a flag pole.”