Our church -an old fashioned Roman Catholic church from the suburbs- used to have two priests, Father Abe and Father Pete. Father Abe was as boring as a Miami Vice re-run, despite of the fact that he was sort of screwed up, delusional, quite a piece of work, the poor fellow. On the other hand, Father Pete was fun, down to earth, great preacher, witty and open minded.
The contrast was so huge that I came to a point when I was only attending mass if Father Pete was celebrating. The actual reasons why I never went back to church are worth a hundred posts. Point is I haven’t heard from Pete for a few years until today.
While returning home from work, I saw his face. At the post office.
In a “Wanted” poster.
For child molesting.
Haven’t been so pissed off in years.