Altar Boy

Monday, 23 December 2002

i used to be an al­tar boy. a damn good one at that, i knew what need­ed to be done at ex­act­ly what time and i knew all of the foibles of the priest i helped out. it was dread­ful­ly bor­ing. i did how­ev­er gain the abil­i­ty to keep a to­tal­ly emo­tion­less face for an en­tire hour. i al­ways took the hon­or of prepar­ing the censer and in­cense when we used it in mass. i got to play with fire, and make it smell good. it was the on­ly sexy part of be­ing a serv­er. i did pass out a cou­ple of times dur­ing sum­mer mass due to lack of blood sug­ar and the in­tense heat that wear­ing an alb in sum­mer heat with­out hav­ing break­fast would cause any­one to pass out. if you read that sen­tence again i change some­thing around from the first half to the sec­ond half and it shouldn’t make any sense. too many verb claus­es? what­ev­er.