Condom Conundrum

Here’s my current problem. I grew up Catholic. It just happened. It was not something I signed up for. As I got older I came to the firm belief that all religions are complete nonsense, not half of them, or even ten percent of them – all of them. Don’t get me wrong; for all I know there could be a God out there. I just don’t like joining a group that claims to have a clue about his nature. This being said, I’m open to being enlightened. I’d love to see somebody rise from the dead, or turn a glass of water into wine, or even Diet Coke.

Now, here is my confession. I just wrote a dirty book, a sex-comedy called THE GENERAL STORE. It has a guy with a big penis, inflatable dolls, lots of f-bombs, and a prostitute who can scratch her forehead with her big toe. It has a plot with some twists, and there are some laughs, so it’s not complete trash. But, it’s not the Great Gatsby either.

Yesterday I had to make a cover, so I revved up Photoshop and slapped some images together, a white colonial sign, some cedar clapboards, some fancy text. I then had the unoriginal idea of changing a letter to an object to convey the nature of the book – a sex comedy. I thought about a garter belt, but I could not find a good image. I then plugged in a half-bitten apple. It looked decent, but I thought the Adam-Eve angle was too abstract. So, I settled on a condom. It looked great, just like the “O” it was replacing in the word, “Store.” Instant cover. Cool. I was done.

But, then today came. Guilt. I thought of Sister Ermita’s warnings about hell being worse than a Holiday Inn Happy Hour. I then tried to count the number of mortal sins I committed while writing THE GENERAL STORE. I stopped at two thousand. Seeking solace, I googled, hoping my shit was not really that bad. Happily, I found my filth was fairly commonplace, perhaps even mild. I read fifty-seven percent of Americans say “mother f*!!*er” at least ten times a day. I also learned  McDonald’s is planning to put condoms in Happy Meals. I calmed down. But, I still have a lingering fear. Shamefully, I must admit I remain concerned about the impact of THE GENERAL STORE on my afterlife. Jesus, I can’t believe I wrote a book that has a condom on the cover…Bless me Father for I have sinned.