An Ex-Side Chicks 20th Anniversary
I remember walking into the church with my grey Asian style dress and metallic silver three-inch chunky heels. I was late because the night before I'd been in a dusty motel with a married man. It was an all-nighter, so out of guilt, I rushed home, washed the scent of his testosterone from my exhausted body, rolled a Backwood, and tucked it out of sight in the ashtray of my 1970 drop top burgundy Dodge Polara. Finally locating the AM station that played gospel music, I roared down the street, in route to Someone I really didn’t know I needed.
When I walked through the door, I watched as the Pastor struggled to keep his composure. His voice changed, as his eyes followed me to my seat on the very back row. I knew I was his type. I had a feeling that if he wasn’t a man of God and if I didn’t respect the fact that he was a man of God, I could be in his pockets too. But I sat down, admiring the fact that someone, as holy as he, could find me attractive. Looking back, I now know that was