The Strange Tale of the Pastors Daughter

The year is 2007 and I am fanging around Newcastle with a series of friends, for some sort of impostor pseudo professional bodyboarding event. To pass the time in between trying my best to smash down 4 rolls and 5 spins on 2 foot waves to get a mad name drop from Terry McKenna and squeeze through a heat we drop into a quaint little coffee house to watch two friends perform an acoustic set. They rock out some quintessential neg tracks that epitomise their name "Mercy for Magdelin" and things are moving along smoothly. 

I am barely scrapping 20 years old so rather than a coffee that would have me losing equal amounts of sleep and my mind all night, I order a chocolate milkshake. As fate would have it the young lady, still of school age and looking innocent, impressionable and strangely beautiful in an individual way that suggested most boys at her high school were still seeing straight through it. We make eye contact and she giggles as I order my dog faced dog of a drink and in my typically egotistical way I take it as a sign of interest. 

After a night of whiney pop songs about girls, cute sideways glances and awkward half smiles I  do one of the most ridiculous things of my life. I decided it would be a good idea to get involved and approach this young lady about going on a date. I had been talking up the fact she was digging me for a while and decided to try and cement some sort of hellman status with my new found Newcastle friends. So in a blaze of bravado that I can not recall living up to since I approached her, donned my cutsie talking to pretty girls voice, told her I was up because of my budding profession in water sports and asked her if she was interested in a date. Clearly the girl was taken aback and had probably never in fact been asked on a date, let alone by some stranger with a sun burnt nose, girls jeans and sun bleached bob. Disregarding this, I decided to believe her when she said she had a boyfriend, and returned to the fails with a tale of how she would have been keen if she was not in such a committed, long term relationship. 

So over the next few days we got knocked from the comp by Ben Gohl, went wild on the newy nightlife, met some babes of doom and bailed home, expecting never to hear from the sweet little cafe babe again.

Taking this whole sequence of events into consideration, imagine my surprise when I popped open a little My Space friend request months later and saw cafe babes little face staring straight back at me. Being quite the student of facebook seduction, pleasantries and MSN "addies" were soon exchanged and before she quite knew what had hit her we planned to spend some time "hanging out" the next time I ventured up towards our fair sister city. 

The night in question was a balmy evening in late winter, with a warm breeze blowing and the smell of spring filling the air for the first time. We agreed to meet (quite romantically) at the scene of our first meeting for a coffee. Kade dropped me off and gave me all the advice and positive reinforcement that any good father would and then I was on my own. We met and started chatting and things were flowing smoothly until the first sign of trouble came when Kade missiled me with a "my dick, your dick". At this stage we were digging sending each other messages that were inspired by the Micky Avalon song My Dick which contained lines such as "my dick costs a late night fee, your dick has HIV". So things got a little awkward when she had never heard of Mickey avalon and I had to explain the humour that lay in the message "your dick is out of fashion, my dick makes runs like Tandulker, Sachin". 

Eventually this got straightened out, we finished our coffee and decided it would be pleasant to take a walk around Lake Macquarie. Usually this large mass of water is pretty unpleasant to say the least, only marginally better and less pungent than Lake Illawarra. However, on this night it transformed into a glorious mass of water, which could barely have been described by any of the great wordsmiths. As we walked and chatted and largely were digging each other I decided to test the waters with the old hand hold.  Things were going dreamy and we held hands walking and talking and we decided to sit on a bench overlooking the Lake. In a scene that would have been right at home in any romantic comedy of doom the sun was setting and I thought chicks were digging it. Eventually I tried to get involved in what I thought was the logical conclusion and lent in for a kiss. 

Here is where it all started to get a little wild. She pulled away with a shocked look on her face. she was flustered and getting all embarrassed and I asked her what was wrong. She replied that "this is the second time this has happened", explaining that this was the second time recently she had been hanging with a boy in similar circumstances who tried to kiss her. I asked her what she expected would happen and she said she thought we might kiss, but not that I would try on our first date. Somewhat inappropriately I found this to be overly hilarious and lost my mind a little bit. She soon revealed that at the tender age of 17 she had only ever smooched one dude and I conceded that I was not about to become the second. 

We walked a little more and made our way up to her house, which happened to be a lake side mansion. We got inside and entered a maze of hallways, much like those found in the catacombs of Vatican city. The walls were adorned with ornaments that contained similar connotations. We were hanging and she told me to choose some music and when I scrolled down her computer I came across 883939393377474 songs entitled HillSong. All these signs definitely pointed to a heavy interest in the big fella upstairs. However it was not until after Kade had picked me up and we walked into his mates house and they all asked me how my date with the pastors daughter was. A girl who apparently was so infamous for her chastity that she had been driving the boys of Warners Bay High wild with lust since they first saw her reading the book of Mark at the Lectern in year 7. What a bad beat.