Church and State

CHURCH AND STATE

Once Church and State hooked up at a singles bar.
They made for an unlikely couple, to be sure, with nearly nothing in common. Most who had even a passing acquaintance with them would have been surprised to find either one in the type of meat market where they met. Hardly “swingers” in anybody’s book, both Church and State had a reputation for preferring those they already knew and feeling uncomfortable with any notion of risking potentially dangerous liaisons with strangers.
And that might have been the way things remained had it not been for the uninvited urging of certain friends who fancied themselves matchmakers and thought the reserved pair just needed a helpful push to overcome their inhibitions and “expand their horizons,” as these friends put it with winks and nudges. What a waste if they didn’t venture out and discover how much excitement a little mixing might bring to their lives.
Arriving at the singles bar at roughly the same time, the conspiring cupids surrounding Church and State exchanged signals and quickly set about various stratagems to maneuver the two into closer proximity while appearing to hang back themselves. There were plenty of awkward moments at first, but as familiarity grew and spirits began to loosen up, the pair might be seen to touch furtively from time to time, as if by accident, then to lean ever so gently together, then more unblushingly, and finally to hang upon one another, drawling incoherently and groping away for all they were worth.
Confident they’d accomplished their mission, the friends on both sides withdrew quietly and left the bar for home to sleep off the ill effects of the night. Not so Church and State, however, who had to be shown the door at closing time. As they staggered away, locked in an awkward embrace, little of what they could be heard to mutter made any sense.
Most of it seemed a rambling dispute over whose place to head for and who should be on top and who on the bottom after they got there.