This is a true story...

In the spring time, when teenage hormones are raging and, coincidentally, the bulk of High School field trips take place, my Major British Literature class took a trip to Canada to watch the Shakespeare play A Midsummer Night's Dream. For those of you who are unfamiliar with famous Canadian Shakespeare towns, we visited Stratford-upon-Avon, aptly named because 1: it is a city named Stratford in the Provence of Ontario along the Avon river known for its excellent stage productions of Shakespearean plays, and 2: a quaint hamlet of the same name resides in Warwickshire, England, and was home to England's most flamboyantly gay--I mean, most renowned bard, Shakespeare.

After receiving our tickets from our teacher and finding our seats so near the stage we could stretch our feet out and touch it, my friends and I decided to relax and prepare for the immense boredom that usually accompanies Shakespearean plays. Soon, a Stratford-Nazi (a.k.a. usher-like hag-woman) approached my two friends and I and requested that we relinquish our seats to an elderly trio who had difficulty seeing the stage form their former position. Not wanting to cause a commotion, and always being respectful to our elders, we confirmed our relocation with our teacher, accepted the new tickets, and proceeded to find our new seats.

If anybody is familiar with Stratford-upon-Avon in Canada, then he is probably familiar with the fact that every local school is a Catholic girl's academy. Not to be labeled as a stereotypical male, I don't really find Catholic school girls attractive simply because they show an astounding amount of both pseudo-innocence and leg--rather, I find some of them attractive because the are truly attractive (physically, of course, but how could someone from a Catholic upbringing have a bad personality?) While in town shopping, I believe I recall counting at least 10 separate plaid patterns on short, flannel skirts, and at least 200 attractive faces resting a yard or so above those short, flannel skirts.

To make a long story short, as luck would have it, the tickets we received from the elderly trio placed us directly in the center of one of the larger female Catholic groups... I don't remember seeing any of the play. As a matter of fact, I believe I failed my final in that class because of this.

After the trip, we unanimously agreed that God must exist, and that, if nothing else, the Catholic faith has at least one thing going for it: Catholic school girls.

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