Tuesday - A Sordid Past
Feb. 28th, 2006 12:30 pmToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about a woman that I used to work with and how I love it when someone surprises me with an unexpected revelation about themselves.
When Karen first came to work at the Toll Road Authority, a few of us were suspicious of her. We figured that no one could possibly be that nice. She always appeared smiling, friendly and cheerful. She carried around a bible and books with titles like, "A Christian Woman's Daily Devotional." She attended church twice a week. She didn't swear or gossip. If she hadn't been so sweet, it would have been very easy to hate her.
Her sweetness won you over, though. She always wanted to know what was going on in your life, and was sympathetic to your gripes and complaints. She was devoutly religious, but did not preach or try to convert people to her way of thinking. She loved jokes and had an infectious laugh that melted your reserves about her.
I walked by her desk often because it was on the way to the soda machine in the break room. I drank a lot of diet Coke. Since my pregnancy, I have cut back and limit myself to about 4 a day, but at the time I drank 8 to 10 of them. I have easily spent thousands of dollars on diet Coke in my lifetime. For a brief period at the Toll Road Authority the soda machine malfunctioned and it would vend sodas for a long as you held the button down and the dispenser didn't jam. Until they fixed it I could get six or seven soft drink for 50 cents total, and I felt like I had won the jackpot.
One day, walking back from the break room, I was complaining to Karen about an upcoming birthday and how I wasn't looking forward to it. Karen, who was in her mid-40s and also disliked birthdays (she won't tell anyone when her own birthday is, even), asked me how old I would be. I told her 32.
"Thirty two," she said with a grin, "I remember thirty two. That was one of my favorite years. I was such a slut."
I almost dropped my diet Coke.
"Beg pardon?" I asked.
"I was a slut when I was thirty two," she said, "I had so much fun that year."
I looked at her to see if she was teasing me. "But, you go to church on Sunday and Wednesday, you, you..." I was stammering. Going to church on a Wednesday, in my book, moved you out of the realm of religious and into the realm of Saintly.
Karen flashed a bright smile. "Oh, I've only been saved for the last couple of years," she said, "before that I was bad."
A good person would have left it at that. A good person would have said that she was glad that Karen had found her way over to the path of righteousness and that the past no longer mattered and should be forgotten. A good person and a good Christian would have said how wonderful it was that Karen had found that Christ could fill the void in her life that she had previously filled with meaningless sexual encounters.
"What do you mean by bad?" I asked.
She told me about picking up men in bars and going home with them, never to see them again. She told me about love affairs with married men and bosses she had worked for. She told me about the back seats of cars and cheap motels and all sorts of things that can get you arrested for public lewdness.
"I don't think my thirty-two is going to be that interesting," I said. I was happily married and very settled.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I had issues when I was your age," she said, "But it was fun."
"It sounds like it," I said. I felt a little jealous.
When Karen first came to work at the Toll Road Authority, a few of us were suspicious of her. We figured that no one could possibly be that nice. She always appeared smiling, friendly and cheerful. She carried around a bible and books with titles like, "A Christian Woman's Daily Devotional." She attended church twice a week. She didn't swear or gossip. If she hadn't been so sweet, it would have been very easy to hate her.
Her sweetness won you over, though. She always wanted to know what was going on in your life, and was sympathetic to your gripes and complaints. She was devoutly religious, but did not preach or try to convert people to her way of thinking. She loved jokes and had an infectious laugh that melted your reserves about her.
I walked by her desk often because it was on the way to the soda machine in the break room. I drank a lot of diet Coke. Since my pregnancy, I have cut back and limit myself to about 4 a day, but at the time I drank 8 to 10 of them. I have easily spent thousands of dollars on diet Coke in my lifetime. For a brief period at the Toll Road Authority the soda machine malfunctioned and it would vend sodas for a long as you held the button down and the dispenser didn't jam. Until they fixed it I could get six or seven soft drink for 50 cents total, and I felt like I had won the jackpot.
One day, walking back from the break room, I was complaining to Karen about an upcoming birthday and how I wasn't looking forward to it. Karen, who was in her mid-40s and also disliked birthdays (she won't tell anyone when her own birthday is, even), asked me how old I would be. I told her 32.
"Thirty two," she said with a grin, "I remember thirty two. That was one of my favorite years. I was such a slut."
I almost dropped my diet Coke.
"Beg pardon?" I asked.
"I was a slut when I was thirty two," she said, "I had so much fun that year."
I looked at her to see if she was teasing me. "But, you go to church on Sunday and Wednesday, you, you..." I was stammering. Going to church on a Wednesday, in my book, moved you out of the realm of religious and into the realm of Saintly.
Karen flashed a bright smile. "Oh, I've only been saved for the last couple of years," she said, "before that I was bad."
A good person would have left it at that. A good person would have said that she was glad that Karen had found her way over to the path of righteousness and that the past no longer mattered and should be forgotten. A good person and a good Christian would have said how wonderful it was that Karen had found that Christ could fill the void in her life that she had previously filled with meaningless sexual encounters.
"What do you mean by bad?" I asked.
She told me about picking up men in bars and going home with them, never to see them again. She told me about love affairs with married men and bosses she had worked for. She told me about the back seats of cars and cheap motels and all sorts of things that can get you arrested for public lewdness.
"I don't think my thirty-two is going to be that interesting," I said. I was happily married and very settled.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I had issues when I was your age," she said, "But it was fun."
"It sounds like it," I said. I felt a little jealous.
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Date: 2006-02-28 07:31 pm (UTC)I think one can still have fun without totally settling. :^)
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Date: 2006-02-28 07:52 pm (UTC)Of course, now that you have Eilif, you have MANY INTERESTING DECADES to look forward to! Progeny BREED issues! Fortunately, they also tend to help you work out some of your older ones. This coming from a Mom with all of 3.75 years experience, here -- a Decorated Veteran, to be sure! ;D
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