I am getting a lot of sudden traffic here because of The Bloggess, so I just wanted to put a disclaimer here for y’all that I am kind of finding my footing in blogging again after a few years’ hiatus, so it’s….kind of rough in here.
So, yeah, welcome, poke around, and bear with me; right now I am on a weird “I must be all solemn” habit which I’m trying to break; it’s kind of like when you’re in junior high and first getting used to having to write Essays or Themes or whatever and you’re really stodgy and serious because you’re new and/or out of practice, but then eventually you loosen up and get comfortable. So, I promise if you hang in there I’ll get more comfortable again.
In the meantime, just for you, a special treat: another story from college, to match the story about Surrealist Poker which sent you all here: this one features a lot of the same friends that played Surrealist Poker with me, but it involves a “purity test”. The Purity Test, for the uninitiated, was a really comprehensive and elaborate game of “never have I ever” – it listed a whole lot of slightly scandalous things – most of them sexual – and you were supposed to give yourself a point based on whether you’d ever done any of them. Ostensibly it was supposed to measure and rate how “impure” you were, but really it was a way for a bunch of people to get all giggly and titillated and gossipy about each other.
So, basically, it’s perfect for groups of college friends, some of whom have unresolved sexual tension with each other, and is a way for them to all try to flirt.
Anyway. One night the gang of us was doing a Purity Test in someone’s room; he’d just found a version of the test that was supposed to be The Most Comprehensive One Yet, with many more finely-detailed and nuanced questions than usual. (If you’ve taken one – you remember how rules-lawyery those things always were? Whether you had someone feel you up one inch above the boob was different from having them feel you up with a hand on your boob, and that was still totally different from whether you had one layer of clothing on, or two, or none, or if one of those layers was a bra, etc., etc., etc.)
We’d known each other for a few years already, and a couple of us had already hooked up with each other, and the group generally knew about most of those instances, so there was a lot of joking and teasing as we laughed over the questions or teased each other about the answers (“dude, I know you guys must have done that…”) and we’d already been at this for about 45 minutes when we got to a section which asked about having sex with various persons in different professions – a doctor, a police officer, a lawyer, a political leader, yadda yadda. One of the questions was about whether we’d had sex with any kind of religious officiant – priest, rabbi, like that. We all marked our answers.
And then a girl named Kim (not me), who’d recently started studying NeoPaganism, started laughing. “I just realized something, guys,” she said. “You know, Paganism says that everyone is kind of their own personal religious leader. So if you think about it, anyone who’s had sex with me can say ‘yes’ to that.”
There was a tiny pause.
Followed by two of the guys silently picking up their pencils and changing their answers.