M E R I D I A N     M A G A Z I N E

The Amazing Keepsake ATM Receipt
By Erin Ann McBride and Juli Hiatt Caldwell

Annie sat alone on the blanket, enjoying a peaceful moment during a large ward BBQ.  Everyone had begun to settle on to their respective blankets, munching away on ribs and chicken.  She lay back on her blanket to enjoy the warm sunrays. It was then that Greg appeared over her. 

“Annie, do you have a minute?  There is something I want to show you,” Greg offered timidly. Annie smiled and allowed him a spot on the blanket beside her.  He pulled out his wallet and for a second she thought he was showing her his driver's license or a picture of him with hair. "See … look! I did have hair! It’s not my fault I am old and bald!" Annie quickly imagined him saying. 

But instead he pulled out an ATM receipt. "Aw, Greg. It’s okay, not even bald guys have to show their ATM receipts to impress a girl."  Annie teased, but then noticed that the receipt was seven years old, had an account balance of $20, and when she turned it over it had her name and phone number on the back, as well as her cousin Anne Marie's name and number on it. What the??

Greg waited to see if the receipt meant anything to Annie. It wasn't in her handwriting, and the phone number was several years outdated. Very confusing. She searched her memory for some time when maybe she had been with Anne Marie and met a guy. But that wasn't ringing any bells. And for whatever reason, seeing her name with Anne Marie was just as confusing as the rest of it. She loved her cousin dearly, but that is an odd pairing of names.

Greg waited for several minutes of watching her reaction before telling her how he came to have her name and number in his wallet. The only thing Annie was sure of was that she had not been the one to give it to him — having never just given her [real] number to a complete stranger, and after all Greg was, until recently, a complete stranger.  Greg laughed and told her one of the most outrageous stories Annie had ever heard.

Seven or eight years ago he was on a plane from Utah to Washington, DC, with a layover in Chicago and was sitting next to one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Immediately, Annie clued in.  "So which one of my aunts was it?" should have been the next thing she said, but she waited. Greg talked to her all the way to Chicago (narrowing it down to two of her aunts), and she apparently at some point encouraged him to call her nieces in the Washington, DC area, where he was headed. (She got off in Chicago.) She gave him the names and numbers of two of several nieces, and left. (Later when Annie’s dad heard this story he laughed and said, "It should have narrowed it down to only one aunt. One of your aunts would have been so heavily drugged to get on a plane that she couldn't have carried on a conversation that long.)

Greg claimed considered calling the two complete strangers for a while, just in hopes that they looked something like their aunt. But he was too shy to do so. (And probably for the best since neither of them look a whole lot like that particular aunt. Not that they aren't both drop dead beautiful in their own rights, but they look nothing like the aunt in question.) He said that he just was hoping to run into one of them sooner or later. He never did — for seven years.

Greg came into his next real contact with Annie on the ward listserve (not that wards have official listserves anymore, but if they did have listserves, that’s how he would have found her).  He saw her name several times on there and wondered it if could possibly be the same girl whose number he had been carrying in his wallet, three inches from his tailbone, for seven years, every day pulling it out and debating over whether or not to call. Okay, maybe that isn’t how the story really goes, but it’s more fun for Annie to tell it that way.  The truth is, shortly after coming into contact with Annie on the ward listserve that doesn’t technically exist, he happened to find the book that he was reading on that fateful plane ride so many years ago.  The receipt fell out and he suddenly remembered getting the two girls’ phone numbers.  And when he saw her at the BBQ he suddenly remembered he had put it in his wallet just so he could remember to tell her the story.

Yeah, right.  Whatever.  "Just finding it in a book" seven years later, and a few days after seeing her name for the first time, is just way too suspicious. We prefer the, ”He pined away over the phone numbers for seven years” version of the story.  It’s so much more fun to tease him with.

Do you have a pathetic story to tell?  Have you ever found a way to avoid talking to someone you were truly interested in for years?  Just because you were too shy?  As always, your dating mishaps are always welcome here!  Send them to erinandjuli@meridianmagazine.com to share them with the world!

The Changing of Men

From Ivan in Washington, “It’s so interesting to hear you say that men over 30 just can’t change. Right! But we need a little paraphrase here. Men over 30 can’t change unless two things happen:

1.       They really want to because they suddenly realize the wonderful need to;

2.       They finally understand what the prophets have been saying about prayer, FHE, scripture study and all of those important things.

Who really can change us? Well, if anyone can, it’s God. How much time does he have to make those changes? Yes, it’s eternity. Not a lot of help for the sister looking for immediate results. The real test of life is patience. Truly the only person that can change us is ourselves. We must recognize the need to change. That brings us to throwing out the old stale baggage and getting the golden suitcase: The gift of charity. That takes a lot of effort and persistence on our part.”

From Eric, “Your baggage metaphor is brilliantly constructed. Another classic. The metal cools at twenty. Before that age men can be molded at will; which is why the military prefers to get their recruits between the ages of 18 and 20.  After that, they can be changed with a little pounding, but by the age of 30 it takes more pounding than you will want to do. If shopping in that aisle be sure to keep shopping until you find one whose form is basically acceptable as is. The bad news is: quirky after 30 is cast in glass, and pounding will only get you cut.  Men in their advanced years can make profound changes, but usually to accomplish that Life has to re-heat them nearly to death, and not many survive. It helps if they possess the right alloy, which only the Spirit can discern.”

Where Have All the Good Ones Gone? Long Time Passing!

From “Drowning in Las Vegas: “Here's the deal.  I was raised LDS but spent 12 years of my life inactive.  Thanks to many wonderful people, I found my way back from the dark-side over a year ago but have now entered uncharted territory. 

I am quickly approaching 30 and have spent the last year dating LDS men ... for the first time in my life!!  I have noticed some major differences between LDS and non-LDS men and for the most part, I spend my time greatly confused.  My family tells me my best bet is to find the perfect guy (for me) and to convert him!  I love my life and am so grateful for my many, many blessings but I wish I could find a guy who was straightforward, honest and didn't confuse me to death.  I think now I sound like a million other single gals out there ... but what is the deal with the men?  Can I assume he is not interested if he says he wants to spend time with me, but isn't specific and takes a week in-between phone calls?  Do I get offended when I am asked to share all of my dirt on a first date?  Should I just be direct and ask or do I play it cool?  I swear I wouldn't change these things for the other problems you might run into with a non-LDS guy, but seriously, a little help here?!?”

Readers, we pass this one straight to you!  Help out a sister!  Give her some advice!

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!

From Kimberly in Utah, “Why do men at single dances avoid a person after one dance?  I lived out in Utah for a few years and thought I would go to the dances when I felt like getting out and kicking up my heels.  I lived in another state where once you reached 30 there was a lack of single activities, so I thought I would go to them in Utah were there are plenty to attend.

At first I would wait for men to ask me to dance.  Then I thought, what the heck, I am here to dance.  So I would ask men to dance and the rest of the night they would avoid me.  I would tell them I wanted to only dance. Did they think I was using that as a line?  I admit if anything came out of it, like if he asked me for another dance or at another dance he asked me to dance with him, that would be fine but not required. Sometimes a girl just wants to have fun ... like that old song goes! I also admit I am not a great dancer but still …”

Maybe the problem is we are relying on dark rooms with loud music to be the focal point of our social lives!  Get out and do something fun and original!  You aren’t afraid to be an independent woman!  Now you just have to find a man who wants new, fun, and independent!  Good luck!

Hey Men, Step Up to the Plate!

Here we have yet another sister complaining that the men just aren’t taking enough initiative!  Come on men!  Step up to the plate! 

“I am a divorced woman.  I have been attending dances and other single activities.  I find that I have to be the aggressive one if anything is to happen.  I have other friends that also have to be aggressive or just accept that nothing will take place. Anyway, what gives?  When did the woman become the aggressor in relationships?  I don't expect men to do everything but something would be nice.  I asked out my first date post-divorce and sent him a thank you note expressing my enjoyment of the evening.  He seemed interested in pursing things further, but three weeks later nothing ... nada.  Does that mean he is not interested?  He is too busy?  Too scared?  Is it my place to continue being the aggressor or should he step up to the plate?  When someone asks for your profile I at least would like you to ask for mine and start the conversation.  I have asked for more than 50-75 profiles and not one has asked for mine.  I really am not ugly, I have a lot to offer, but they must not be interested. Anyway, thanks for listening.  I am just frustrated and not sure how to let the male population know they need to do something.”

The Parable of the Dating Audition

Raymond in Seattle sent us this gem.  Thanks!

“I noted recently your comparison between ‘Dating’ and ‘Auditioning.’  It's a comparison that had occurred to me before, but I concluded that it's rather dangerous.  Auditioning is putting someone on the spot.  You set them up on the stage (alone), shine the spotlight, and say, ‘Okay, now act.’  I've always found such dates to be the least enjoyable.  Second ‘auditions’ don't happen much when approached that way, I think.  I really like the following parable...

Once upon a time, in a small city not so far away, there lived two women who were each stage directors at the two local community theaters.  These two women were always competing against each other and would invariably schedule their opening nights for the same evening to see who could get the biggest audience. 

One day the two stage directors both happened to be at a charity event for supporters of the arts.  At various times during the event, each one of them saw the other speaking intently with a certain new guy who had recently appeared on the scene as a significant contributor.

Afterward, the two women got together and made a pact that, rather than launching their usual intrigues, they would stage a contest of sorts:  Each was about to open her favorite play in exactly three months, and the one who could get the new guy to participate in her play would win the contest, while the other would keep her distance. 

Well, this new guy was rather surprised to receive an invitation to audition, seeing how he wasn't really an actor, having only participated in a high school play or two many years before.  But being open to try new things (and interested in getting to know these two women better), he arrived at the first theater to find the director and a few of her friends waiting to meet him.  They asked if he was familiar with this, their favorite production, which he had in fact seen just once a few years earlier.  So they put him up on the stage, turned on the spotlight, and instructed him to act out one or two of the scenes as he remembered them.  Well it was a disaster.  He obviously wasn't an actor, and he wasn't following the script at all!  As the director thanked him for coming and sent him on his way, she wondered how she might cast him as a stump or a log.

Our friend the non-actor was now a lot more reticent to participate in any sort of audition, but when he arrived at the second theater things seemed quite a bit different.  Here the director welcomed him onto the stage and asked if he was familiar with her play, which he wasn't.  So instead they spent the time talking about some other favorite movies and plays, and acting out several of his favorite scenes.  Well this was great fun.  It didn't seem like an audition at all!

In the end, the would-be actor didn't get a part in either play.  But no matter, because several days after the audition he called up one of the two women and asked if she would like to join him for dinner.  And three months later when both plays opened, that same stage director received an extra bouquet of roses from her now-boyfriend, while the other went home alone.

After six more months the wise stage director moved to France to study at the Paris Opera, while the other was fired and moved in with her mother.  The End

Some great food for thought!  Thanks!

As always, your thinkings, ponderings, musings, meanderings, and other ‘ings’ are always welcome in our inbox: erinandjuli@meridianmagazine.com  Have a great week and go on a date!

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