I have three drafts waiting to be finished–including the Princess Party story (starring our very own Princess “Uh, Ma-ho-lia?”!), the hymnal drama, and what happened to the pinata–but instead of finishing them I’m going to tell you this story instead.
Yesterday, I got up sort of late. That was bad because we always have room checks on Monday mornings, and my room was in some serious disarray. So I cleaned my room and made myself look presentable as quickly as I could on a Monday morning, grabbed my violin and my box of cinnamon rolls, and headed to work, stopping to get the newspapers–both Sunday’s and Monday’s editions–on the way. Isaiah and I open the library at 8:00 AM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and normally I’m a minute or two early. This time, however, I was a few minutes late, and a group of people was already congregated in the lobby of Pipkin as I approached with backpack, violin, sweet rolls, and newspapers. Mr. Cale opened the door for me as I got close, and I saw a family of previewers–all boys.
“Thanks!” I said to Mr. Cale, attempting (successfully!!) to neither hit anyone with my violin nor drop the newspapers. I laid the stack of papers on the desk in the lobby and began rummaging around for my time card.
“Are you single?” the father of the previewer family asked.
“Uh, yes, actually. Very much so,” I replied.
“Oh, good,” the father responded. “I already tried to set my sons up with another girl, but she was married. I didn’t want to make that mistake again.”
“Oh. Uh…I also know how to bake.” Why did I say this? I have honestly no clue. It was Monday, it was early, and a stranger had just asked me my relationship status. The words just sort of came out. “I, uh, need to get to work…nice to meet you.” I gathered my things again and fled to the safety of the library.
“Sorry I’m late,” I apologized to Isaiah. “But I brought food.”
I unloaded my armloads of stuff and settled down behind the circulation desk. Mr. Cale brought the previewers into the library for a tour and introduced them to Isaiah. He’s the guy’s head RA, so he did his friendly “Welcome” thing while I pretended to be super busy with something else.
“Are you engaged?” the father queried.
“Uh, no,” Isaiah answered.
The previewers’ father gestured to me. “She’s available!”
I made eye contact with no one.
Mr. Cale took the family through the library, and I went back to sorting out the old newspapers. Once sorted, I took the ones we no longer needed back to the recycling bin. The library tour had just finished and the family was making their way past the circulation desk as I came back. I passed the father. “Sorry if that was awkward,” he said. I began to reply graciously, but he was continuing. “You’ll thank me in five years when you’re married.”
I just smiled.
“Um, Isaiah?” I said.
“Just for the record, I don’t actually want to marry you.”
“Glad we got that sorted out.”
“Soooo … you think we’ll get our American Church History exams back this morning?”
Some people really take this “Bridal College” thing seriously.