I take it all back. The encounter at the ashram was not really a blessed event. It was a blessed event, but I am confused. Right after the Prophet hugged me so tenderly, another person asked him for a hug. I call him the Prophet now, because his name has to do with some Judaic religion's version of a prophet. When I was in my early twenties, I lived with a guy whose friend used to call him The Prophet. He actually meant The Prophet, i.e., the The Prophet of Islam. But that is another story that I might get to in some round-about way.
Actually, calling him the Pee would link him to Pee Wee, and I don't want to do that. Why don't I just call him by the name of young boy, since he is such an ageist. Let's call him the Gnome, because sometimes he reminds me of a gnome. I happen to like gnomes quite alot.
In any case, my friend asked him for a hug. He gave her a peck-like kiss and an awkward hug to the shoulders. I think he was so blown away that he kissed her that he didn't know what to do. I haven't seen any of the guys in our group of people who inhabit The Love of Ganesha ever kiss this woman on the lips. What do I know? I know how I feel: still confused and wondering why I'm dwelling in the realm of the Green-headed Monster. Which is the way to the land of Shrek?
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