If I had to live through it, you have to hear about it. . . .

So I had a sort of painful (and hilarious) experience on Sunday that made me wonder indeed, as Beth Moore would say, that God really did hate me. So here’s a little replay. The scene: Judson Baptist Church’s choir room before the 10:45 a.m. service. I’m wearing a kicky choir robe and looking super-sassy. (That is sarcasm!)

The heroine of our story, me, heads over to the second soprano section of the choir and takes a seat next to one of the men who sing bass. He’s a great guy, jovial, nice, funny, somewhere around my dad’s age. I enjoy sitting next to him because he can sing well. He recently lost his wife (a year or a year and a half ago) to cancer. He has a grown daughter (younger than me) who recently got married.

Guy: Are you going to sing with the basses? Me: No. . .am I in your section? Guy: No. You’re in the soprano section. Me: Well, I just like to sing next to the boys. (OK, I admit in hindsight, probably not the most appropriate thing to say. I meant that I like to stand next to guys when I’m singing because I like to hear their parts. Instead, it came out like some pick-up line David Spade would use. That’s been happening to me a lot lately. I’ll say something, then realize how it sounds and become uber-embarrassed.) Guy: Do you have a special guy in your life? Me: (my face must have done something weird b/c next came this response) Guy: I’m not hitting on you, I promise. Really. You’re very attractive, but most people wouldn’t look favorably on an old fart like me running around with a little 29-year-old. I could be your dad if I’d started early enough in life. I emit a sort of embarrassed laugh and begin hoping that it’s time for church to start or that Jesus will come back right now! Guy: You’re very attractive. And you’re smart. You have a degree, right? Me: This is when I explain that I have my bachelor’s and masters degrees and that I went to Vanderbilt. This leads to a short conversation about me being smart, which I deny. I’m obviously not, since I can’t find a way out of this conversation! Guy: Well, you’re very attractive and smart. You probably have a lot of guys interested. Me: Not really. But I’m very shy. (Why I continued this uncomfortable conversation, I have no idea!) Guy: Well, you just have to be a little pushy. Give guys some encouragement. Be pushy, but don’t push them into anything. Me: OK. . . . Guy: Have you thought about _________ and _____________? (He lists off the names of two single guys in our church. The thought of dating the first makes me want to poke my eyes out with my own fingers. The thought of the second makes me want to laugh uncontrollably.) Me: I respond by saying next to nothing. Guy: Well you ought to try online dating. I am. You can be as picky as you want to be. Just make sure that you put out there how important your faith is and don’t be afraid to say no to someone if you’re just not interested. Really. There are some weirdos, but it’s been a good experience. You ought to try it. Me: At this point, I’m silently praying, please, Tim, say it’s time to go sing. Mindy, please look over here and see the helplessness in my eyes and rescue me. Anyone, help me! I’m going to be signed up for eharmony and fixed up with a random stranger before we even get to the worship service!) Guy: Really, it’s not that bad. And you’re an attractive girl. I promise, I’m not hitting on you. Finally, it’s time to begin the worship service and we head out to the choir loft. I for one, an relieved! 🙂