He was an illegal alien and he missed his wife and kids. I was a legal alien and had no one to miss. We'd say hello in church week after week and since he had no car I'd give him a ride home.
Last week was different. He asked me if I had plans for lunch after church. Wanting company I said I didn't. We went to Boston Market and had a quiet and pleasant chicken meal. My treat.
His roommates, also illegal aliens--they all did construction work--would be in the one bedroom apartment four of them shared all afternoon. It wouldn't be much of a restful afternoon at home with them. I felt guilty and in need of company so I said he could come and visit me for a while.
Once on the afternoon sofa he felt asleep, or so I thought. What do I know about married men from other countries. In his sleep, or so I thought, he kept on touching himself. What else could I do but look on and wonder. What was I supposed to do?
I got out my bible and read it hoping he'd stop his suggestive touching. He didn't, but I kept on reading.
After enduring this for two hours he apologized, and asked if I could take him home. I said, of course. I told him the afternoon had been a complicated one and that I hope we could still be friends. He said the fault had been all his.
Last week was different. He asked me if I had plans for lunch after church. Wanting company I said I didn't. We went to Boston Market and had a quiet and pleasant chicken meal. My treat.
His roommates, also illegal aliens--they all did construction work--would be in the one bedroom apartment four of them shared all afternoon. It wouldn't be much of a restful afternoon at home with them. I felt guilty and in need of company so I said he could come and visit me for a while.
Once on the afternoon sofa he felt asleep, or so I thought. What do I know about married men from other countries. In his sleep, or so I thought, he kept on touching himself. What else could I do but look on and wonder. What was I supposed to do?
I got out my bible and read it hoping he'd stop his suggestive touching. He didn't, but I kept on reading.
After enduring this for two hours he apologized, and asked if I could take him home. I said, of course. I told him the afternoon had been a complicated one and that I hope we could still be friends. He said the fault had been all his.
If I see him again, and it is likely that he'll be in church the next time I go, what do we say to each other? Do we pretend nothing happened two weeks ago?
