Heaven is in someone's arm tonite.

I was starring at my third, or was it fourth bottle of GULDER when she walked in. Reflectively, I took a big gulp and swallowed hard. Who was she, we all wondered. Her beauty and elegance were quite like I have never seen before. The gods must have been in this room with us the day she was created. I imagined a competition among the gods to supply their most breathtaking unique pieces on that day. I imagined a debate amongst the gods on how, and where to allocate these pieces that were pieced together to create the specimen our eyes were staring at.

The gentle sways of her hips as she walked were more like graceful prances of a Ballerina on a dance floor. On the upper side, the protruding cleavages completed what, in my opinion, is a perfect endowment below.Our eyes fixated at the sight, I wondered what’s going through everyone’s mind. One thing I was sure is that, “The fires down below” were probably raging. The more I thought about it, the more it became obvious that the designers achieved their objectives of inflicting pain on her admirers, including us.

To begin, the entrance to the room is hidden.  Exclusive clients had to use back doors to enter, and exit through another special door. The windows in the room had privacy glasses, meaning, the occupants of the room clearly saw everyone coming into the club through the main entrance, but the person can’t see them. The location of the room itself was strategically at the top floor of the building, giving these “exclusive clients” clear and unobstructed views to enjoy their torture.

As I adjusted the buttons on the Cassock I was wearing, it then dawned on me that, the builders of this room, in which I, and three other men are sitting in were probably somewhere smiling at the pain and suffering, they were inflicting on their unassuming willing victims that they called “exclusive clients”.To be allowed entrance to this room itself, you are required to swear to secrecy; tell them what you do and who you are in addition to paying for the protection of your privacy.

As I struggled to reconcile my chosen calling with where I was seated, I couldn’t help but realize the irony of who, and what I claim to be. Thinking perhaps, my thoughts would be better aligned with a full glass of Scotch on the Rocks; not the Beer I was having, I ordered one. Then, I looked at my wristwatch and quickly realized, I had a sermon to write for my Sunday service the next day!

Quickly getting up, I staggered to the exit door to my waiting car to take me back to the monastery. Making our way through the twisty road we must follow to avoid being seen leaving such a “worldly” place, it became clear to me that, “a Thing of beauty is a joy forever”, depending on how joy is defined.

As I lay in my lonely bed, sleep seemed to have taken a long vacation far away from me. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t get her off my mind. The thoughts of who’s holding her kept me company as my struggles to drift off to sleep proved fruitless. I have heard people say, “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”; to which I have always responded, No, a thing of beauty is easily seen by all. Attraction to a thing of beauty, is what I have always believed they meant to say. Finally, I felt sleep knocking, but a song by Errol Brown and his Hot Chocolates Band came to my mind. “Heaven is in the back seat of my Cadillac” they sang in that song. The more I thought about it, the more it became clear to me that “Heaven is in Someone’s arm tonight, but that person is not me.