A Streetcar Named Disaster

It's been one of those up and down, busy then dead kind of days. I'm glad it's coming to a close.

I seem to be at a loss for words today. So, how about a story? 

Misty and I don't seem to do much socializing. We go to church and to church and Sunday School class events. But we don't really do much with other couples. A few weeks ago we had lunch and went to Arts Alive with some friends. That was the first time in many years we'd done anything like that. We're not completely anti-social without reason.

When we were in Auburn, I was working at a small church in Opelika. The church had a men's softball team. I grew up playing baseball, so I joined the softball team. There were several guys on the team who didn't go to church with us. One guy was around my age. He and I became friends. We'll call him Stanley. We talked a lot before, during, and after games. Misty got to know his wife, too. We'll call her Stella. Several games into the season, Stanley and Stella invited us over for dinner. Sounded fun. We went. Let the fun begin.

I remember that dinner was not bad. That is the only really clear memory I have of the night. I don’t remember what we ate. I don’t really remember who else was there. I’ve subconsciously blocked most of the details. All that remain are the faint outlines of murky recollections. Given that information, keep in mind that what follows is related to you as best as I can remember.

Stanley and I often talked about video games. Misty bought me a PlayStation the previous Christmas. Stanley got a Sega Saturn. We were both video game junkies. One of the auspices of our coming over was for he and I to play the Saturn. I had not seen one, so I was excited about the prospect.

After dinner we quickly moved to the Sega Saturn. Stanley and I played a couple of games. Meanwhile Stella and Misty talked about the joys and pitfalls of married life. Soon we exhausted all of the sports, shooter, and fighting games Stanley owned. By this time Misty and Stella had joined us around the game console. I think the next few moments went something like this:

Stanley: “Hey, I know another game we can play. We just got this one a couple of weeks ago. We played it with Bill and Susan last week. (At this point Alarm #1 went off in my head.) It’s a game for couples.”

This is the point where Alarms 2, 3, & 4 should have been blaring louder than a 17 year-old boy’s car stereo. Unfortunately I’m a rather naïve and trusting person. Stanley popped in the game and we were treated to the silhouettes of a naked man and woman dancing seductively. Now the alarms go off.

I think we were there another hour. It seemed more like 3 life-times. The game was a series of questions about the sex lives of the participants. Our hosts graciously went first and relayed some sordid story of copulation that caused my stomach to turn several somersaults. I was naïve, but by no means innocent. It wasn’t the subject that caused me to be uncomfortable. It was discussing this particular subject with two people we’d known for about 6 weeks.

Suddenly, Stanley and Stella turned to Misty and me. It was our turn. The questions popped up on the screen. We stared silently at the provocative question on the screen. It’s at this point that my hazy memory of the night fades completely to black. I’m not entirely sure if I answered the question or passed out or dove head first through their living room window to flee the scene. I know that eventually the shock wore off for Misty and she had the wisdom to develop a headache.

We didn’t speak of that night for a long time; but we thought of it often. Every time we were invited to another couple’s home my insides seized; I would break out in a cold sweat. Misty and I would cast furtive glances at each other. Then we would politely decline the invitation.

Our most recent social engagement was with our Pastor’s family, so we felt pretty safe. But know this; if you invite Misty and me to your home and we decline, it’s not personal. Please don’t let it offend you. We are still a little skittish. If we are ready to face our fears and we do accept, be forewarned: We may well run screaming at the mere mention of video games.