Pure As The Slushy Black Stuff On The Side Of The Road In The Inner City

<Originally posted elsewhere on November 8th, 2008>


Edward and I watched a program on TLC last week about Purity Balls.  A purity ball is essentially a fancy schmancy ball where little girls get all gussied up to look like prostitots and publicly pledge to their fathers that they will save their virginity for their husbands. 

Ewww. 

Where, oh where to start with the dissection of this modern calamity?

Okay, the obvious.  You don't buy a car without test driving it first, right?  And even if you did, cars are slightly easier to get rid of than spouses unless you happen to belong to the paternal side of the mob.  Don't you want to know what's under the hood before you say "I do"?  Shouldn't you know what's under the hood before you say "I do"? 

One little girl that was interviewed stated that she intended to save her first kiss for her wedding day.  What if her husband kisses like a fish or gnaws her face off?  The buyer beware option no longer applies.  Or what if he's like the first guy that I kissed who was the human equivalent of a drinking fountain and just saliva's everywhere?  "No sweetie, you go on to bed.  I'm going to take the couch.  I feel like being dry tonight."  Is that really an appropriate conversation to have AFTER you get married? 

Moving on to the more important, what if you like silk scarves and your man likes hardcore glass dildo peanut butter fisting?  Oh, right.  The people that participate in these purity balls are all good Christians (procreation, missionary, blah blah blah) and this is a moot point.  My bad. 

How about the public declaration of a young girl's virginity to her father?  That's a double-yuck on the this-couldn't-be-any-grosser-scale.  Hey, I'm all for a little parental supervision where teenage sexuality is concerned but 10-year-olds looking adoringly at their fathers WHILE saying "I'm not going have sex with anyone until I get married" is just nausea-inducing in the I-have-candy-in-my-pocket kind of way. 


I see abstinence as a respectable decision but one that is not so much worthy of a taffeta dress and a dance with Daddy. 

I did not follow the noble path of marrying the man with whom I lost my virginity but if I had...  well gosh...  it just all leads back to anonymous Craigslist bathroom sex, now doesn't it?