I had one roommate who was a charismatic Catholic. She confided that she spoke in tongues. I was appalled. She was an alumna of Swarthmore. It was a status thing. Indeed, there some pressure for me to join the merry group. I told her I knew I was biased but I would not live in the same apartment if she spoke in tongues. I attended a Pentecostal Church once. It was not my idea to attend. It was absolutely terrifying. I saw some sort of sexual release. The poastor talked them into a frenzy. Girlfriends from kindergarten were tearing their hair out, wailing out bad they were. The pastor was completely in control. My eyes were glued on him. He checked his watch for the time and then starting hugging people out of the craziness. It made the Witnesses look sane.
There was a theme of "I am the worst of all creatures." The girls I knew were too polite and studious. They slammed their bodies against the seats. I was thinking of getting a police officer when the pastor ended the performance. They saw Jesus on the altar. I saw nothing. My clothes broke all their rules. I liked evil music. I respected many of the people present until that day.