The Adventures of Opera Man and Goth Girl- A Cautionary Tale

Ok, so today at church there was a lovely display right in front of my row. I had a person in front of me blocking the view(Thanks AMY!) so I was not as grossed out. I heard the account from my sister and Aibi that there was greatness taking place in church inappropriateness history. Let me recount for you The Adventures of Opera Man and Goth Girl: A Cautionary Tale

Once there lived a boy who liked cravats and medieval weaponry. He was raised with many varied interests and insatiable curiosity and he was in fact a very nice individual. As he grew to a man, the love of cravats only grew within him and started to necessitate MORE man-cessories to balance silken knots. Thus our hero needed special vests, and jackets with tails, and knee high leather boots to complete "the look". His hair also grew at an astonishing rate until like Sampson of old it became a source of his powers. With his silky locks and "ravisher of wenches" outfits he became known as Opera Man.

One day our hero met a girl with a look as dramatic as his own. With heavy eyeliner, and dramatic black clothing she was as goth as a girl can be. Without being macabre or dangerous which is the essence of true goth if you ask the narrator, not just wearing constant funeral attire, but I digress. When Opera Man met Goth Girl it was love at first dramatic gesture.

As time passed and Sunday neared they decided to attend church. Opera Man wore his normal attire, and Goth Girl wore the standard black, but in a homage to 80's Madonna. No one knew how their two secret powers would combine to blow the minds of their fellow attendees. It all began when they sat directly in front of a crowd that were already annoyed by summer people coming in 30 minutes late and giving shout-outs and by constant laughter and talking around them every week disrupting the reverence. As Opera Man and Goth Girl sat there the fates collided. Opera Man had brushed his gleaming locks an extra 200 brush strokes that morning to make it extra touchable. The unsuspecting Goth Girl, in the fervor of all of the accessory possibilities inherent in the imitation of 80's Madonna, put on her trademark lace fingerless gloves.

As they sat in the sunlit church, Goth Girl's fingers itched to touch the silky locks. Dared she? Oh yes, she dared! Goth Girl began to run her fingers through Opera Man's hair. So Soft! So Shiny! Does he use leave-in conditioner? She couldn't get enough. As she ran her fingers through for a 100th and 150th time, steam began escaping from the ears of the two girls behind her, but Goth Girl was so enraptured she didn't notice. If only she had payed attention to the feelings of those around her, tragedy could have been avoided! As her lacy hand rose comb through for the 151st time, a small tangle in Opera man's hair, caused by her greedy fingers, caught in the rough lace of the Madonna glove. Goth Girl tried to stop, but there was too much momentum in her hand. The glove started to unravel and the lace caught up even more in the locks of poor Opera Man. Goth Girl gasped as her naked hand was exposed to the gaze of the angry girls behind her. In the same moment Opera Man realized he had a massive knot of black thread and silky locks on the back of his head. THE HORROR! He began tearing at the knot and in his rush of emotion he started shredding the locks of his hair until much of it was in his lap and that which was left was furry and split-ended. Goth Girl looked down at her outfit and realized that without the black glove, she had lost the required noire:pasty ratio, she was just another girl in a black dress and not really Goth at all.

At that moment a dove flew into the chapel and a single tear escaped it's eye and POOF the dramatic couple was gone forever. The two girls behind them were instantly able to pay attention to the meeting. Until the next week when the magical row in front of them sucked in yet another couple with its "people who need to get a room or want to show off that they have unlimited texting" magnet.

The End.