I was swiping through a d.ating app and matched with someone who didn’t have a profile picture.
Desperate for a change, I decided to take a chance and meet her.
I wasn’t expecting much, maybe someone a little rough around the edges, but when I arrived, I was floored. She was stunning: 5’2″, baby blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair, and all the right curves.
Impressed, I asked what she did for a living. “I teach Sunday school,” she said.
I’d never dated a Christian girl before, but I was intrigued. On the drive to dinner, I lit a c.i.garette and asked if she cared for one.
“Oh, heavens no,” she replied, “What would I tell my Sunday school children?”
Fair enough, I thought. Some people s.moke, some don’t.
At the restaurant, I ordered steak, she got lobster, and I requested the second-most expensive bottle of wine on the menu. When the wine arrived, she declined a glass.
“You don’t drink?” I asked, surprised.
She shook her head. “Oh, heavens no, what would I tell my Sunday school children?”
The dinner and conversation were amazing, but I couldn’t quite figure her out. On the drive home, I passed a cheap m.otel and figured, why not take a chance?
“Want to get a r.oom and f.ool around?” I asked nervously.
She winked and said, “I thought you’d never ask!”
Surprised, I laughed and teased, “Really? What are you going to tell your Sunday school children about this?”
She grinned mischievously and said, “The same thing I tell them every week: You don’t have to s.moke or drink to have a good time!”