M E R I D I A N     M A G A Z I N E

Target Practice
By Erin Ann McBride and Juli Hiatt Caldwell

Take one well-meaning southern belle, mix in one man who won’t give up, and you have the ingredients of a recipe for disaster.

The Reason our ‘Altar’ Ego Had to Endure This Indignity in the First Place.

A little background on Annie for this story. At the time, Anne worked in one of the most controversial industries ever. The stories revolving around her job and co-workers are fodder enough; therefore she has no need to exaggerate any of her stories related to this particular job. She was a gun show coordinator and worked in a building where the employees were all packing heat, but the security guard only carried a nightstick.

One of these employees was a funny little man who came with quite a reputation.  To protect the innocent, we’ll call him Brother Intense Lee Desperate (because we haven’t used that name for awhile), or just Brother D for short. To give you just the right mental image, please picture a smallish guy with oversized glasses hiding his constantly flushed face. He lives in the underbelly world of the superstitious, paranoid, conservative, Internet-dwelling, vast right-wing conspiracy. 

Not that we think there is anything wrong with being superstitious, paranoid, conservative, internet-dwelling, or a member of the vast right-wing conspiracy.  Who among us hasn’t been at least one of things at some point in time?  But Brother D was all of those things, all of the time. He seriously lacked in most social skills. His boss actually took his office desk chair away from him, because he spun around in it too much. He was forced to work in a hard, metal, folding chair. As one friend once said, “He has an interesting resemblance to a deranged jackrabbit.”  But we digress …

Somehow, someone at work brought up in conversation with Annie that there was a single LDS man working in the company. She was quite surprised to hear this, and immediately set out on a quest to find such man. The co-worker gave her his name and for some reason, she felt compelled to email him. An email relationship was born. She would sneak up to his division and try to find out who he was. Much to her dismay, every time she went up to his office, his folding chair remained empty. She couldn’t understand why he was forced to endure the indignity of the folding chair, since no one had informed her why lost his normal chair privileges in the first place. Several attempts at meeting him later, she gave up hope of seeing him. Instead, Anne invited him to an upcoming Young Single Adults dance, where she was in charge. He accepted, and said he would be there. 

Shall We Dance?

One can only imagine her surprise when, right at 8:00 p.m., just as she began hanging decorations for the dance, in walked the most peculiar little man she had ever seen.  He was wearing a brown tweed blazer, red shirt, and gray slacks.  His glasses were so big that they slid down his nose, dwarfing his eyes, even further altering his appearance.  She had never seen him before, but somehow her sinking gut told with no uncertainty that this had to be Brother D.

The dance hadn’t even really started yet when he asked Annie to dance. Annie is a very well-bred Southern belle; she had no choice but to oblige.  The conversation over the next two and half minutes, went something like this: 

Brother D wasted no time. “I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime.”

Anne, looking down at his receding hairline (must we mention that she is of average height and build for a woman? She cleared her throat as daintily as she could before replying, “Well, I’m pretty busy this season.”

Brother D would not be put off. He continued, “I was thinking we could go shooting sometime.  And then if that went well, we could try it again, and have dinner with it.” Her head started spinning head with the disco ball overhead.  “And then if that went well could do it again, but without dinner. And if that went well, we could do more together.” Oh dear. More?  There has to be more?  “We can see what might blossom between us. So how does Thursday sound to you?” 

Blossom?  Did he just say blossom??  All this in the first thirty seconds of their relationship! 

Annie has never been very good at direct answers or getting succinctly to the point, but by the end of the song she gave him what she thought was a decent, yet polite, rejection. Something about being busy every day during rabbit hunting season.

Something’s Blossoming in the Cafeteria

She successfully avoided him the rest of the evening at the dance, and for two weeks at work. Just when she thought she might be safe from the deranged jackrabbit, it happened. She ran into him in the office cafeteria. 

There she stood in the breakfast bagel line, innocently minding her own business, when the deranged jackrabbit popped his head out of his hole and found her. She tried to hide, or at least avert her eyes to avoid eye contact. He would not be put off. He walked right up to her, at the head of the line, just as she prepared to give the cook her order.

“So how about you, me, and a little ‘bang-bang’ tonight?” He lowered the tone of his voice and winked at her as he said ‘bang-bang,’ while using his fingers as pretend guns. 

Did we mention that there were at least ten other people in the bagel line?  Ten bagel people just heard a deranged jackrabbit ask her to go do a little ‘bang-bang’ with him! Considering that they worked with guns on a daily basis, she fervently hoped that the others might understand that he really meant shooting. But their raised eyebrows and amused smirks confirmed her greatest fear — their wild imaginations were not just running away with them; they were stampeding like frightened cattle.

“Well, Brother D, I’m busy tonight,” she stated as firmly as she could. No more polite Southern belle! She struggled to maintain some level of control over her voice, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry, but losing the fight drastically to not turn a deep dark shade of red in front of the ten bagel people who were sure to go back to their cubicles and share this little event with the entire company.  Ten bagel people!  Ten bagel people!

“So how about tomorrow night?”  He was not easily dissuaded. “I’m not so sure if that will work either, Brother C, I mean Brother D.”  What was his name again? She was too flustered to think straight.

“Well, next week maybe?”  Why couldn’t this man take a hint?

“Um, maybe.”  She couldn’t be totally rude in front of ten bagel people.  Please, please, please, just make him go away! She could feel all 20 little bagel eyeballs staring at her. 

He smiled, turned towards the door, spun back around with another wink, and made a bang-bang shooting motion with his fingers again. As she felt the earth opening beneath her and her endless tumble into the depths of despair begin, she turned to get her bagel. The cook gave her a taunting little look, holding her bagel just out of reach.

“A little bang-bang?” she asked, eyebrow cocked.

The room exploded with laughter. She grabbed her bagel and left as quickly as her heels would carry her.    

True story.  We wish we could be so inventive as to have made that up.

Your Thoughts

Margaret wrote in this week to comment on the status of singles in the family ward.  She said, “The ward members tolerate a lone older woman all right, but you don't expect to receive any invitations to their homes. Forget holidays.  If your children are busy and the rest of your relatives are dead, you'd better like staying home and working on family history.  Fortunately, I love having a chance to do that.  But as for social involvement in a ward, it's rather like being an appendix or a gall bladder.  OK to have around, but expendable.” This is sad, but probably true. With our focus on the eternal family, singles sometimes feel they are assigned second-class citizen status. She also laments, “I have found some nice guys with whom to chat on LDS Mingles.  There are some handsome guys who have achieved my level of education and worldly success,” but they’re out picking thirty-something rosebuds to date.

So to you folks in the family ward, we make a plea on behalf of Margaret and those like her. The holidays are coming up. Make sure your gall bladder has a home in the ward body this season. Or better yet, ask them over for Sunday dinner anytime, just for fun.  Think how nice it will be for them to join you and have a loud, crazy family dinner instead of going home alone to make dinner for one.

Bill on the Wasatch Front attended a dinner recently with a mixed group of singles and recently married couples. He observed, “Perhaps this is oversimplification, but the main difference [between the singles and those who just married] seemed to be attitude. Those who have recently married seemed to have a much more open and accepting attitude toward marriage. Those who are single (most of them have been single for a long time) all say they want to marry someday, but seem to have a more negative attitude. The attitude expresses itself in comments such as, ‘There are no good women/men left.’ Or they have so many criteria that it would be impossible to find someone that met them all. Attitude makes all the difference.”

We would like to point out what we feel is obvious: those who just got married will naturally have a better attitude about the institution of marriage. Someone who is starting to believe it will never happen for them will put out a natural defense mechanism to hide their true feelings. Juli recently spoke with a single cousin in her early 30’s who declared adamantly that she never wanted to get married, but almost five minutes later asked if there were any interesting men in Florida that she could email. We do, however, agree with Bill wholeheartedly that a positive attitude is what makes the difference in successful dating and relationships. Who wants to date a bitter, angry whiner?

Ronee sent in some ideas for people who would like to jump start the dead battery on the dating machine in their wards.  “Why not try a variation on the dinner group idea used for couples in regular wards? Three boys and three girls (or more, you get the idea) are assigned to get together on a given night at a given place (restaurant or home or some activity, but not the movies because the idea is to talk and do, not sit and watch).  Then rotate the groups a few weeks later.”

Brandy writes, “There is a huge world out there to experience and enjoy...let's have some balance in our church and social lives!! I date all the time, granted they are not all Mormon, but some have converted and all are really great guys.  So to you singles who are stuck in the rut of religious-only activities...break out and try some of the suggested activities Erin and Juli listed [in last week’s column] ... you will find SO much more joy and some really great singles.”

Holly in Atlanta, Georgia has the final say. She said, “I particularly enjoyed your article this week about feeling like you're not fitting in in your singles ward.  I am feeling that way right now, there are not really any options of other singles wards without driving an hour to go to an even smaller singles ward. I am even contemplating moving to my family ward 2 years before the 31-year cutoff! 

“However, the Lord usually sends a good message just in time if you're willing to listen. I was visiting a friend in Boston this past weekend, and the Sunday School teacher gave a great lesson about the body of the Church being made of many parts (1 Cor 12:14-27), and I realized that I have a place in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and singles ward or family ward, there is a place for me. Sometimes our place in the ward we are in is hard to find, but we all belong, and are all necessary parts to make the body of the Church complete.  I still haven't made up my mind whether to switch wards or not, but at least I feel more comfortable of my place in the Gospel!”

Amen, sister!  Since she wrapped it all up for us so nicely and put a little bow on top, we’ll just remind you that your thoughts on any and all of what you read today are welcome and desired. Really! We love hearing from you! So feel free to email us at erinandjuli@meridianmagazine.com.

Don’t forget to ask out someone new this week! And if you get asked, say yes. Unless, of course, that person asks you to go do a little ”bang bang.” Then you have our permission to say no and go hide in the restroom. Thanks, and have a wonderful week

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