Putting the “ass” in a Catholic Mass
The best thing I can say about growing up Catholic is that at least I never got diddled by a priest.
I have nothing but bad memories when it comes to going to church. Growing up a reluctant Catholic, all I remember is old white fossils droning on about shit I didn’t give a rat’s ass about.
But, when you grow up Catholic, and have Catholic friends and family, you can never get out of going to church. You have to sit through tons of weddings and funerals . . . and of course they always come with a Mass. A long, boring Catholic Mass. Growing up Catholic means having a lifetime of bad Mass memories.
But one bad Mass memory stands out above them all. It was “The Unfortunate Incident of the Ass and the Holy Water,” and it scarred me for life.
It happened a while ago. My uncle had died, and my wife Cindy and I had to attend the funeral mass.
We had been out late the night before. Very late. Too late. Stupid late. And needless to say, I was very fuzzy the next day. Bleary-eyed, hung over, and miserable as we pulled into the church parking lot.
The funeral procession had not yet arrived from the funeral home, so we were the first ones there. It was about 100 degrees that day, so we decided to stumble into the church and wait there, in the air conditioning, mostly because I was sweating vodka and starting to smell like a Russian whorehouse.
So we went into the church, which was empty, and stood in the back. After about two minutes, my legs starting hurting, so I leaned back against the wall.
As soon as I did, I felt like I had sat in a toilet. The entire back of my pants was suddenly completely soaked with water. I turned around and realized, to my horror, that I had sat right in the Holy Water tub.
In fact, not only had I sat my big fat ass right in the Holy Water, but I mangled the basin in the process. It was one of those cheap, fake-metal tubs, and it was all bent out of shape and dripping precious Holy Water all over the floor.
And my pants were soaked. Had I not been hung over, my reaction time probably would have been a little quicker; but my reflexes were so slow, I think I was sitting in the tub for a good five seconds before I realized something was wrong.
And of course, they were light khaki pants, so it looked like I had shit myself.
I turned to Cindy, horrified, and told her what I did. She took one look at my pants and starting laughing so hard she almost wet her own pants. So of course I started laughing uncontrollably, probably because I was still drunk from the night before.
And then the janitor walked in. He saw us there, both laughing, me with my soaking-wet shit pants. And that’s when the nightmare really started. The janitor was a special needs person. He talked like he was deaf. And he said to us, in that deaf person’s nasal voice:
“Can I help you with something?”
And we couldn’t stop laughing. We weren’t laughing at HIM. I have a special needs brother, and would never laugh at something like that. But we were out of control . . . and it certainly must have looked, to any outsider, like we were laughing at him.
He kept saying, “Can I help you?” and we just kept laughing because we couldn’t help it. It was horrible. I managed to point to the Holy Water tub, and he started to try and bend it back into shape, and we made our escape.
We walked out of the church, and my plan was to ditch the Mass, and tell my mom I had a stroke or an aneurysm or a kidney stone or something. But as we walked out, the funeral procession pulled up, and everybody saw us. We were trapped like rats.
I immediately started to head for a pew, so I could sit down before anyone noticed my ass.
And that’s when my cousin asked me if I could pass out the funeral programs to people as they walked in. Meaning I couldn’t sit down and hide my huge, fat, wet ass.
So there I was, standing in church, my pants dripping Holy Water, hung over, reeking of vodka, and my family started walking in. Cindy, trooper that she is, agreed to help me pass out the flyers, and stood very close to me, trying to block anyone from seeing my ass . . . an almost impossible task, given the size of the ass in question.
I got through the Mass okay, but it wasn’t easy.
And when it was finally, mercifully over and people started filing out, I stayed in my seat, so I could be the last one to leave and nobody would realize that I was the one who basically shit in the Holy Water tub.
But you can only imagine my horror as I watched family member after family member anoint themselves with the Holy Water from the mangled Holy Water bowl.
That’s right. They were taking my ass water and rubbing it on their faces.
And you know what? My ass hurt for a week after that. As if I’d been spanked by Adrian Peterson. I’m not a big believer in God, but I think the old man was sending me a message. “Thou shalt not show up hung over for Mass and soil my Holy Water with your fat, hairless ass,” . . . or something like that.
License: (license)
10 Responses to “Putting the “ass” in a Catholic Mass”
Only you, Steve! This may be why the Catholic Church has never tried to get you back.
I’m speechless.
Wait, no I’m not.
HOLY CRAP!
OK, now I’m speechless.
LOL Steve, you made me pee my pants again with laughter…and I’m not even Catholic. You should be selling your blog of short stories to the networks…these are life experiences of the 1st kind!
This is one of my fave “Steve stories” [and yes, I think the words in quotes because these stories DESERVE quotes, so there!] ever, ever, EVER!!!
It just never gets old. You are the best!
So in your world, holy water is a weapon of ass disruption?
Great laughs! Best start to the working week I could hope for. Thank you Steve!
Grew up Catholic! Six pack in progress from laughing so hard!!! Thanks for sharing!! Hilarious!!
Thanks for reading, everybody!!! Glad it gave you some laughs! At least SOMETHING good came out of that nightmare!!! Hope you all sign up for the e-mail alerts and become regulars out there on The Bald Truth!!
P.S. Mike Klein: Nicely done.
Having a week from hell, and really needed to laugh until I cried – thank you!
So, so happy to read a Steve Crescenzo blog again – though I may have to rethink subscribing with my work e-mail address….
Ha ha . . . thanks, Kim!! Yes, I don’t know how work friendly the blog will be! Sorry you had a rough week!
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