I was always disappointed that I wasn’t beaten during high school.   That’s because I’m Catholic.   Catholics are supposed to be beaten by nuns, or at least have little scars on our knuckles to prove that we took piano lessons.

So it was with some relief that yesterday I had this recovered memory.

The nuns hated their lives and, therefore, us.   Such was the 60’s at Mercy High School.    Which made us quiet in church and submissive in school.   Except for Mario DiAngelo.   DiAngelo was forever giving shit in Religion Class to Sister Mary Immaculata.   Questioned everything.   So one day when he asks about the sex lives of popes, she takes her breviary and, with a swing worth of the St. Louis Cardinals, smacks him so hard her prayer book explodes.   I mean her whole prayer life explodes over DiAngelo.   Leaving him dazed and deeply religious.


Filed under: John Samuel Tieman, Prose