FESTIVAL SHAG
Synagogue has always been a pretty good hunting ground for me. I've lusted after the ladies in the women's section; exchanged numbers at the post-service buffet; and even gotten to go out with a fair few. Last night, I took things to a whole new level, and not necessarily a better one.
It was Simchat Torah - the culmination of the autumn festival-fest and noted for the copious consumption of alcohol and food that usually accompanies it.
The party began slowly. Some people came in for a quick peek - and promptly left. I feared that, despite all our efforts, it would be a disaster. But within a couple of hours, the mechitza that separated the men from the women melted away, and things began to swing. The older retired to their town-houses; a five-year old child manned the bar; and carnage began to ensue.
Target number one was a petite blondey from South Africa with a pretty face and an endearing habit of wobbling within inches of your face when she spoke. My only reservation about her is that she's mates with a twat I once shared a room with. But I pushed these doubts aside. And, after a couple of encounters, I asked her for her number. She gave me her card and I moved on to target number two.
S was a lanky literary agent with brown and pink polka dot dress. She spoke at a million miles an hour and seemed quite bonkers. I was instantly drawn to her. Come the end of the evening, I walked her home. Her hand took hold of mine. And as we walked, we kissed.
So far so normal. But then I walked her home. Once my friend had gone, we went to her room, where things proceeded at the same pace at which she spoke. Before I knew it, we were naked in her bed and she was rummaging in her draws for condoms. She found them.
So there I was, on a festival that celebrates the receiving of the Torah, shagging a girl I met in the synagogue. I can't say I was proud.
Synagogue has always been a pretty good hunting ground for me. I've lusted after the ladies in the women's section; exchanged numbers at the post-service buffet; and even gotten to go out with a fair few. Last night, I took things to a whole new level, and not necessarily a better one.
It was Simchat Torah - the culmination of the autumn festival-fest and noted for the copious consumption of alcohol and food that usually accompanies it.
The party began slowly. Some people came in for a quick peek - and promptly left. I feared that, despite all our efforts, it would be a disaster. But within a couple of hours, the mechitza that separated the men from the women melted away, and things began to swing. The older retired to their town-houses; a five-year old child manned the bar; and carnage began to ensue.
Target number one was a petite blondey from South Africa with a pretty face and an endearing habit of wobbling within inches of your face when she spoke. My only reservation about her is that she's mates with a twat I once shared a room with. But I pushed these doubts aside. And, after a couple of encounters, I asked her for her number. She gave me her card and I moved on to target number two.
S was a lanky literary agent with brown and pink polka dot dress. She spoke at a million miles an hour and seemed quite bonkers. I was instantly drawn to her. Come the end of the evening, I walked her home. Her hand took hold of mine. And as we walked, we kissed.
So far so normal. But then I walked her home. Once my friend had gone, we went to her room, where things proceeded at the same pace at which she spoke. Before I knew it, we were naked in her bed and she was rummaging in her draws for condoms. She found them.
So there I was, on a festival that celebrates the receiving of the Torah, shagging a girl I met in the synagogue. I can't say I was proud.
posted by David Cohen at 11:06 pm
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