Confessional booth

Less common than we'd like to see in Northern Ireland: two young men, friends - one a Protestant, the other a Catholic, wander about the streets of a country village where they've decided to take the weekend off. And, fair to say, it's a bit boring. more than a bit boring, as they walk about the town.

As they pass before a Catholic church, one friend tells the other: wait here a minute, I need to confess my sins. He walks into the church, steps into the confessional, and tells the priest: "bless me, Father, for I have sinned: I have committed adultery!"

The Father reassures him that we all stray, we are all welcome back in His Holy Embrace; but to give absolution, the confession must be full. He needs names, and dates.

"Bur Father, I swore on all the Holy Names that I would never tell - and breaking my oath would be a mortal sin, wouldn't it?"

The priest pondered the contradiction, and came up with a solution: "If I guess who it was, then you wouldn't have broken your vow, now would you?" to which the young man agreed, no.

"So: was it Julie, the new maths teacher in our elementary school?" - "No, Father, it wasn't her."

"Was it the widow Flaherty, who runs the tourist information bureau?" - "No, Father, it wasn't her."

"Was it Maggie, the barmaid at The Shoving Leopard?" - "No, Father, it wasn't her."

"Well, my son - until you give full contrition, I can't grant you absolution."

He walks out of the church, and joins his Protestant friend... who had been waiting patiently...

"Hah! Early Friday night, cruising time, and you burn a half hour talking with your padres - and what good did that get you?"

And the answer came back with a smirk: "I have three hot tickets for tonight!"