Let me set the scene:
It’s pouring rain, the skies are grey, and my brother is moving in as a
freshman at his college. I came along
for the ride, and to make sure everything gets properly set up and organized in
his new room. Despite my efforts to look
like a normal human being, I have frizzy hair from the rain, my clothes are
soaked, and I am tired from the long, early morning drive. My family and I are waiting at the admissions
building for a few umbrellas, when this random guy walks up from nowhere. Apparently, he was the tour guide on my
brother’s initial campus tour, because my parents recognize him and start greeting
him like he is their long-lost son.
This is awkward for several reasons. First, why do they care about him so
much? Like, they met him once. Took a tour with him for probably less than
an hour. They are excitedly greeting him
like he is the prodigal returned home. I
can’t understand why all this familiarity is happening. Second, he is kind of cute (not like d-bag
cute, but clean-cut cute. This
distinction is important). Third, I am
looking pretty wretched at this point.
So I’m not exactly stunning as I walk into the admissions building in my
wet clothes.
After this slightly uncomfortable meeting happens and I am
introduced to this semi-cute stranger, said stranger generously offers to give
us a tour of the recreation center since it is raining outside. And how could we ever say no? Says my
overly-excited father.
Instead of taking the golf cart over, my father offers to
drive us all there. He fails to take
into account the fact that we have a small, five-person car. Can you picture it? Mother and father in the front seat. And in the back, my brother, me, and
semi-cute stranger, who decides to sit right
in the middle. So it’s a semi-cute
stranger sandwich.
Semi-cute stranger (we’ll call him SCS for short) then asks
me a series of questions, including “where do you go to school? What’s your
major? What year are you?” And so on.
All of this would be perfectly normal, except for the fact that we are
squished together in a tiny car and are mere inches away from each other’s
face. Good thing I flossed today, I think to myself. My obnoxious father then asks SCS about his
summer and SCS tells us about his mission trip to Canada where he helped inner
city kids learn about Jesus and oh, he definitely feels called to pastor a
church in the inner city, no doubt about that.
You better believe my father is just beaming like crazy and giving me
the eye through the rearview mirror. SERIOUSLY?
Later, after the recreation center tour, we are about to
leave when my father starts talking about my trip to England like it’s his
job. He makes sure to tell SCS that I am
leaving soon and would he please pray for my safe travels? YEAH, LET ME JUST ASK FOR YOUR MOST HEARTFELT
PRAYERS SINCE WE MET APPROXIMATELY TWO MINUTES AGO.
Thank you, father, for making me feel desperate and
sufficiently awkward. I appreciate your earnest
interest in my love life, but you just ruined it. Besides, I won’t date and/or marry an aspiring
pastor. I’m not spiritual enough for
that…
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