A few weeks ago, I received an unexpected call from an old college friend. She would be in town for a day or two, and wondered if I’d like to meet, and reminisce about the past. I asked her, how in the world did she find me after all this time. She laughed, and said she was surfing the internet, when she came across a blog site called, “Simple Observations.” After seeing my profile, she read a few of my posts, and concluded, I was still a nerd, extremely strange, and incredibly weird. Since she’d be in my hometown for a conference, she figured it would be fun to get together. We hadn’t seen each other in over twenty-five years, and I was curious to see how her life had turned out.
Looking back, and shaking some of the cobwebs from my brain, I remembered her as an arts major, very outspoken, a little wild, loved to laugh and have fun, liked to party, and could hold her own against anyone, when it came to drinking games, and shot competitions. I vaguely recalled, she had also done some nude, artistic modeling for a few art studios, to help pay her tuition.
My wife, and I have been married for almost twenty-three years, and are open and honest to each other about everything. When I broached the subject of meeting with a female friend from college, she said, “Sweetheart – I trust you completely, and I know in my heart and soul that you would never cheat on me.” My first thought was, “Wow, what a wonderful wife. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”
She then said, “Besides, what sane woman, would not only take you, but put up with someone so goofy. You also have one foot in the grave, snore like a baboon, and can hardly get out of bed in the morning, let alone chase another woman. If by some miracle, a woman with severe vision problems, did approach you for a liaison, you’d probably have a heart attack. You do recall signing that life insurance policy last month, don’t you? So, dearest Patrick – have fun!” I replied, “Thanks honey – I…… think.”
We decided to meet at a local Dunkin Donuts coffee shop. Entering the establishment, I noticed the few tables were filled with an elderly couple, two teenagers with laptops, taking advantage of free Wi Fi, and a middle-aged woman wearing the black habit of a Catholic nun. The sister looked familiar, so I walked towards her table, where she sat with folded hands, as if quietly praying. She looked up at me with a generous smile, and said, “The famous Patrick Dykie, I presume?” I replied with a little confusion, “Rachael?”
I learned, she now calls herself, Sister Mary Margaret, has been a nun for a little over twenty years, and teaches math to first and second grade students at a parish-run elementary school. Over cups of coffee, we talked about old times, and what has been happening in our lives since college. Don’t tell my wife, but I don’t think, I’ve ever felt more comfortable or relaxed while talking with a woman in my entire life. I think it was probably because there wasn’t any sexual tension, or expectations. For an hour or so, we were able to simply enjoy each other’s company. She even laughed at my limited repertoire of nun jokes.
If any of you have gay friends of the opposite sex, you know what I’m talking about. This must be especially true for women. Imagine having a friend, who’s a great guy, intelligent, funny, a great conversationalist, and sensitive, but he’s also a man, with a man’s perspective. On top of that – he only sees you as a dear friend.
On my way home, I thought about my time with Sister Mary Margaret. I’m probably one of the few people in the world to think about this; but, have any of you guys, ever wondered what it would be like to have a nun as your best friend? I would think it would have quite a few advantages. I don’t think women feel threatened by nuns. I could walk up to my wife and say, “Honey, Sister Mary Margaret and I, are heading to the Bahamas this weekend to do some scuba diving. Oh, and by the way, we’ll be sharing a room to save money.” I doubt she’d hesitate for a second, as she replied, “Okay, have a great time.”
Imagine the money and trouble you’ll save on birthday and Christmas gifts. All a nun ever needs are new habits, Bibles, Rosaries, and comfortable black shoes. You might even make a donation to a local charity in her name. It gets even better! What if you’re forced to go to court for some alleged offense, its looking extremely bad for you, you’re really innocent, and your best friend is called as a witness for you. Pretty hard to dispute the testimony of a nun for Heaven’s sake. When the bailiff has her put her hand on the Bible, and says, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God,” and she replies, “I do.” All you have to do is glance over at the jury, and do you know what you’ll see? – Freedom.
Here’s something I just thought about. What do you think your parents would do if you showed up at their house with a nun? Talk about a mother’s, dream daughter-in law. She doesn’t drink, curse, or wear revealing outfits, and she goes to church seven days a week! As an added bonus, your mom may have finally found a woman who’s good enough for you. She might even, get down on her hands and knees and pray to the sky above, while saying, “Oh, Lord in Heaven. Please whisper in the Pope’s ear, and tell him to change the rules so nuns can marry. Please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top.”
Most of you don’t know this, but nuns are very lucky. I think it has to do with divine intervention, or something. They can walk under ladders, break mirrors, and pick up stray black cats, and nothing ever happens to them. Their car insurance rates are $4.00 a year, and they can procure ten million dollars in life insurance for practically nothing. When you’re with them, you don’t have to worry about out-of-control buses jumping the curb, or stray space debris from outdated Russian satellites landing on your head. Even muggers seem to avoid nuns. They probably don’t want to take any chances with the guy upstairs.
I think that’s why nuns, all live to be at least a hundred years old, are tough as nails, and are practically indestructible. It’s true. I still remember, Sister Estelle, my elementary school principal. She was four-foot nothing, ninety-pounds soaking wet, at least a hundred and ten years old, and could outrun anyone in my third- grade class. She would also grab the collar of a naughty little Catholic boy, and effortlessly drag him off to her office, where he would face, a huge, heavy and painful yardstick. After all these years, I still have nightmares about it.
All this talk about nuns, has got me thinking about starting a business. I’ll call it, “Rent a Nun.” I know it sounds crazy, but it just might work. Think about it for a minute – everybody wins. A guy gets a nice, interesting, non-threatening companion to hang out with. Wives and girlfriends feel safe and secure that their man won’t get in any trouble. They figure, another woman’s not going to hit on a man in a club, who’s dancing with a nun. Plus, the sisters, not only get out of the convent once in a while, but all the money they earn, goes to support many wonderful charities.