By Erin Sherbert
By Erin Sherbert
By Leif Haven
By Erin Sherbert
By Chris Roberts
By Kate Conger
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By Rachel Swan
"I'd like to find out about that, too," she replies, then tags along at my heels.
When I ask about vasectomies, the soft-spoken director gathers her notes. "There is a high risk of prostate cancer," she says.
"Oh, so it's more of a medical thing," I remark, shaking my head. Unlike the tragedy of Holly and Steve, this surgical form of birth control is fine, except ... GOD WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN WITH A HORRIBLE CANCER!
"What if I'm teaching a teen abstinence class and someone says they're going to have sex?" I ask next. "Should I tell them it's OK to use a condom?"
"Condoms send a mixed message," she says, straightening her notes.
"Yeah," I add. "It's almost like we're saying it's OK to have sex."
"I could go on for hours about that," interjects the woman with the George and Laura button.
I throw out a solution that could possibly win me one of those Nobel Peace Prizes.
"Know what they should do? Teach abstinence in Africa. That way it would completely wipe out the entire AIDS problem over there, because there would be no way to spread it!"
"Yes! That's right," says the soft-spoken director.
Phew! World crisis solved!
After my loooong day of workshopping, I begin to doubt my decision to remain a born-again virgin. It seems this group is using abstinence as a vehicle, pretending to be concerned about public health when the larger picture is to advance a religious program and its agenda. It's a bit One Nation Under God-ish, a back door for Christian America to get into public schools and teach moral values quicker than you can say, "Scopes Monkey Trial."
That's why I've taken to putting large amounts of whiskey into my complimentary Starbucks paper coffee cup. Is there a term for having a hangover from too much Jesus talk?
Grabbing my Starbucks whiskey-coffee, I check out the Saturday night events, where I find more tables with more old ladies in more floral shirts. I make it just in time for the SWAT Team to do its "Pieces of My Heart" sketch once again. (I could never get tired of that.)
"We're not serving alcohol in here tonight," the waitress says when I order a double bourbon.
I sit blankly for a few moments listening to some woman who got married at age 27 while her husband was 33 -- and both were life virgins. Two of the event's coordinators then tell how they had unexpected pregnancies in their teens, which forced them to get married.
I decide to get the hell out of here.
While driving into Portland, my born-again virgin status is tested. The devil whispers in my ear, and I end up hooking up with a cute blond girl I meet at a bar called Shanghai. I try to Look and Drop, but it just doesn't work. All this talk of abstinence has made me horny. As an ironic twist, the cute blond works for a public-access TV station and once directed teen abstinence videos as a freelance gig.
Our shared abstinence background breaks the ice.
Going back to her place, I end up severely crossing my boundaries (except for the tea-bagging part). I'm caught up in the moment. I'm about to break my born-again virgin pledge and fornicate (without a condom, of course, since I've been taught how ineffective they are and don't have any). Fortunately, the blond's prepared. (By no means would she have sex otherwise.) Thus, Quentin Smalls once again becomes a man!
Though I wasn't planning to have sex, and made a pledge not to, the cute blond made me realize: You always have to be ready to protect the johnson!
Look for Harmon's upcoming book,Republican Like Me!