I just got home on Saturday from a trip cruising around Southern Croatia and then leave again for London to pick up my Aunt Connie and Uncle Steve for another adventure that also spans to Paris. Of course, it doesn't stop there. But rather than drone on about travel I would like to share a story that happened to me last week.
So on the boat there were a hand full of Aussies and most of them at the retired age. However, there were two other couples our age that we ended up hanging out with over the course of the week. They were from Australia and New Zealand both on their honeymoons. It was a great week and we really enjoyed seeing the sights and meeting new people. Of course everyone wants to know, "what do you do for a living?" and I was never sure what to say. Well, I came to the conclusion of telling people that I studied to be a pastor and that went well. I got asked a few questions, since it's not quite a job that many women take I also got a few strange looks.
Now Victor and I are not quite the partying type or real night owls so we usually went to bed before the other couples and we sort of gained the reputation of being rather lame when it came to night time revelry. On our second to last night on the boat we were convinced to head out on the town of Hvar with our new friends. I'm usually not a big drinker since one sip of wine will make me fall asleep and I really hate the taste of beer. (Yes, most, if not ALL beer is disgusting to my taste buds) However, I will admit I love Malibu rum. As in it is so yummy even if it does taste like the smell of sun tan oil. Ah, Malibu! We started out at a little bar with sofas next to the water where I proceeded to love two Malibu and cokes. After that we headed over to a small dance club where we shared drinks with big straws. Good times. So by the end of the evening I was feeling good and having a great time dancing and laughing with Victor and our new friends. Since I'm not a big drinker, I have always believed that I can tell when I need to stop before I feel like crap and therefore I begin to drink water and get to bed at a reasonable hour. We left early, of course, and were the first to leave the bar at 2am.
However, the point of this story isn't to tell you about my only drunken evening in a few years but something that was said to me during our night out. While dancing with the two girls from our new friends one of them decided to tell me that she was proud of me for staying out late and having a few drinks. Then she proceeded to let me know that I was the kind of pastor she liked: the real kind. They both agreed that if they went to church, they would go to my church.
That's actually just what I needed.