Ex-SD: I stopped in a grocery store in Fayetteville (circa 1987) following a run. I was wearing one of my old football jerseys (from a Catholic HS). I pass this nice (appearing) little old lady and nod. She looks me dead in the eye and calls me an anti-Christ. No s**t. I was floored. I could have had a pentagram tattooed on my forehead, and could’ve been throttling a helpless child and not drawn a stronger reaction. And she said the word with utter venom.
Yup, them Baptists is a mite serious about (their version of) God.
What is truly funny is the number of honky tonk bars that absolutely rock on Saturday nights. Booze, drugs, fighting and carousing, and then the same group is in church the following morning. Course, as a Catholic, I probably shouldn’t be pointing any fingers in that respect.
