My wife and I used to belong to a so-called "messianic" congregation and attended services every Friday night for three years. The "rabbi" was actuall... an engineer at a local IT company and stumbling through a disjointed, boring sermon every weekend didn't qualify him as a "rabbi," but everyone called him that, and his wife thought of him as one.Once a month they would host a potluck dinner at their home for the entire congregation. John’s wife, Brenda, was really hot and I could never take my. I sighed acceptance, or maybeit was defeat. Right now, I didn't know if there was a difference.Besides I could always let them close up after tonight.Once that was done Shelly left to start getting ready in the bathroomand Mom started on my makeup while my nails were drying. I looked atthe clock and realized that not counting the breaks we had taken, wehad been at this for almost five hours. I just groaned as dramaticallyas I could and complained how long it was taking, much to Mom'samusement.. More

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