John’s blog post from a few weeks back, appropriately titled “Honesty, it’s a Rough Policy,” encouraged me to come out and be honest as well. In this case, I can only be candid with John though, as the rest of you will have to answer to my pen name: Ranger.
Sometimes when we have the “hots” for someone, and they are not readily available to pursue in house church, coffee ministry, children’s ministry (please don’t misinterpret that), communion duty, etc., we need to create/manufacture situations or path-crossings. This shouldn’t be considered creepy. Last I checked, society seemed to have a certain admiration for “opportunists” as I prefer to call myself. In fact, I’m sure there are thousands of existing time-tested relationships that had a certain genesis in the guy being an unabashed conjurer of opportunities.
No regrets. The end will surely justify the means. In the same way you can’t judge a painting until it is completed and you cannot critique a song until the final chorus plays out, we can’t judge a guy for his tactics in pursuit of a woman. Either way, saying this to myself makes me feel better.
Let’s get to the story:
My mom feels as though her chance to have grandkids rests entirely on my shoulders. This doesn’t induce any undue pressure in me really. I actually find it comical. Nonetheless, I humor her and tell her that I trust her motherly judgment in setting me up with someone (for reference: see John’s several blog posts concerning arranged marriages).
Apparently she and one of her church lady friends were all over it before I knew what hit me. They had just the girl. She was considered “sweet” and her name was Lyla (not really) and apparently had a heart of gold. Of course, one of my first thoughts, to be honest with you, was “is she attractive?” I gave my mom the benefit of the doubt on this one and I apathetically told her I’d look into it.
Not less than a week later I see my mom’s church lady friend in the oh-so-common post-church social circle. I noticed she was surrounded by young ladies. This is normally intimidating as I will always end up saying something outrageous when this particular situation arises. But I broke through nonetheless, knowing Lyla must be in there and I had to know whether this was a go/no-go.
There she was. Flowery summer dress…check. Cowgirl boots…check. Radiating joy…check, check-a-dee-check. I was captivated and after a few short words and a nice handshake I knew I had to see her again. However, to my chagrin, I have only been able to cross her path but one time since. It may have only been that one fortuitous reunion but I decided the next time I ran into her I was going to ask her out. The rain would stop, the sun would come out, the birds would chirp and all would be merry.
But no matter what I did, this third encounter has proven to be extremely difficult. This is where it gets beautifully bogus.
(We will find out on Monday what Ranger does next)