So my mom was visiting us this week and last Sunday, she expressed interest in going to church, since she is a good catholic woman. Being as I’m a horrible Catholic and haven’t gone to mass in several months, I really didn’t have room to argue, and since my husband was eager to please my catholic mother, he hesitantly agreed to go as well.
So she then tells me she wants to go to the historic church in downtown Shreveport. Holy Trinity Catholic Church that was built in the 1850s and is quite possibly one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen, but I’m getting off topic.
We find out that the only mass this particular Sunday is at 10:30 AM, which for us, is kind of a late mass. We figure oh well and decide to go. We got breakfast before going, and this is when trouble began to strike.
We first can’t find any parking in downtown shreveport on a Sunday because, well, every person in the south is at church and everyone drove their own car. So first we have to walk a couple of blocks, which really wasn’t a big deal.
Then we get to the church and the doors are locked. Concerned, we look around and see that the parking garage across the street is very crowded. A woman then informs us that mass is in the parking garage this sunday because of the fall festival.
My mom and I look at each other with looks of disbelief. Since both of us have been catholics for our entire lives, we have never had mass anywhere but in a church or chapel. So we begin to walk over, and everyone is wearing New Orleans Saints jerseys instead of the usual dresses and dress pants, and the clergy is all dressed as clowns.
There were no chairs available for us because we arrived a little later than everyone there, so we decided to stand in the back.
At this point my husband is almost dying from trying not to laugh. It was all just too much for him. He was wearing dress pants and a button down shirt because I was nagging him from the moment we got up to make sure he looked his Sunday’s best. But for my husband, what put the icing on the cake, was the Clifford the Big Red Dog bouncy castle that was behind the priest, so whenever he raised his hands in prayer, he looked like he was praising Clifford. Even my mother, who would usually kick our behinds if we ever laughed in church, was laughing her ass off as well.
During the mass, the priest said “May God bless the New Orelans Saints against the New England Patirots today in their game.”
When it came time for communion, is when everything just seemed to finally make sense. A woman dressed in full clown make up, her name was Cee-Cee the clown, came around and gave us communion. My husband, who is not catholic, is technically not supposed to take communion. This clown refused to take his “No, I can’t take communion,” by shoving it in his hands and glaring at him darkly.
The mass ended shortly after, and catfish was served to everyone who stayed.
Yep. Welcome to the South.