A Communion of Sorts

In the building where I work, we have security guards. Mainly to keep the solicitors at bay and to make sure the bank across the hall is not robbed. They don't do a great job at either.
Most of the time they can be seen reading the newspaper, making personal calls, attacking a crossword puzzle, and harassing me. Well, I would be lying if I said I mind. Back when the security guards were young, college boys that one time gave me a rose, I didn't mind. Now, we have older women and a man.
This man is probably in his sixties. He is Black. With that said, let's get on with it:
Each day, this man runs to the door when he sees me coming. He insists on opening the door for me. It's nice, but it also comes along with: "How you doing today, sis?"; "Why didn't you curl your hair today, sis?; "Did you park in the employee section, sis?"; "That's a neat outfit you got on today, sis"; and "What church you go to, sis?". The last, I should have ignored but I didn't. I answered. Quick to put it together, he looked at me oddly and asked: "Is that a Black church?"
"No. I'm Catholic"
This is where I have to let you guys know something. Down here in Texas, it is very very very rare to meet a Black Catholic. I am not from Texas, neither are my parents whom baptized and raised us Catholic. It's really not my fault. Each time a Black (non-Catholic) finds out this information about me, they react as if I am the anti-Christ. It's not enough that I am a believer and do go to Church (every once and awhile), oh no, I am crazy because I am a Black Catholic. To the majority; you can only be Hispanic and Catholic in Texas.
Don't ask because I have yet, to get that as well.
"You're a what, now, sis?" He asked. I explained it to him. I'm used to it. "Well, then, sis, we need to get you to a real Church"
Don't hate on him, yet because this is about the same response I get from every Black person.
"Don't worry, I'm good. Really, I am. Thanks" I said. There have been many times that I have fought for my right, but once you do it more than five times, you learn to just ignore.
"Uh, okay, sis...but when you are ready to believe, come let me know"
End of that. Every other day forward, he asks me if today is the day that I will believe. Every other day, I reply with a Hail Mary.
Then, one day, my oh so very white boyfriend stopped into the offices. That was the whip cream on top of the chocolate pudding for our security guard. Hell just broke loose.
After I walked Incredible out to his car and came back to the building; there he was arms folded--not opening the door. I walked in.
"Sis, I got to ask you a question" He said.
"Yes?"
"That's your boyfriend, right? Is he a believer?" He asked.
"Oh yeah. He's Catholic, too." Wrong answer...oh gosh, why I didn't think...but it was the truth.
"Hmm...I see, sis, I see. Well, you know we are what we eat."
Ewww! What did that mean, seriously what does that mean?
Can I sue for sexual harassment or something? Did he imply that I ate my boyfriend and that's how I became Catholic?*
I wanted to shout back: I don't swallow!

*I know that is not what he meant. But seriously--what did he mean by that?