Last week I was walking into the bank and a guy was standing outside talking on his cell phone. I went in, did my thing, and when I came out, he approached me.
Guy: Excuse me, miss? What is your name?
Me: (checking him out for concealed weapons and/or cultish looking pamphlets) Brandi.
Guy: Well Brandi, I noticed you when you came into the bank, and I just wanted to tell you that you are really beautiful.
Me: … really?
Guy: Really. I’m running late to a meeting, but I wanted to tell you that.
Guy: Have a great day!
I got into my car and waited to leave, making sure he was really crossing the street for a meeting like he said he was and not jumping into a car to follow me back to work and then maim me in the parking garage.
It completely threw me. Here’s this guy, seemingly perfectly normal, taking time out of his day to pay me a compliment with no strings attached. It was a really nice thing to do, and it made my whole day. But I couldn’t help thinking maybe something was wrong with that guy. Maybe he just hasn’t seen very many girls, and that’s why he picked me out. Maybe he has really weird taste. Maybe he’s blind.
I clearly do not take compliments well.
This past weekend at a laser tag event*, I was approached by our youth pastor with a job opportunity. We go to a pretty young church, and because of that have a small youth group but a children’s ministry that is bursting at the seams. Over the next few years, those kids who are in grades 3-6 are going to become the youth group, and the church wants to hire someone to handle the junior high ministry. It would start immediately as an on-the-side thing, running Sunday mornings and planning one event a month, and would have the potential to become a full-time job in October. Would I be interested?
We didn’t have much time to discuss the details, but we met with him again Tuesday night to figure out exactly what the job would look like. He spent a lot of time talking about why he thought I would be good at the job, and I have to say it was a little hard for me to listen to. I don’t know how to respond to stuff like that. What he was saying was true, about how I have a lot of experience with junior high and have a passion for those kids and am willing to stand up for them, but it throws me to sit and listen to it.
I’m going to take the on-the-side thing, and I am really excited about it. I have never had a job that I actually cared about before, and the prospect of getting to work with junior high kids for a living is really appealing. I can’t imagine it, actually. I’ve spent a lot of time this week talking to people who do or have done similar jobs, and I feel relatively prepared for the challenge.
But people are going to have to stop saying nice things to me. I can’t take it.
*I feel the need to mention that I sustained an injury at said event. Some of the girls and I had decided to pick off a group of guys who were taking refuge on the lowest level. We were shooting down a them from one level up when they figured out where we were. They came running up the ramp toward us and I, thinking the whole section was flat, took a corner running backward. It was after I found myself flat on my back (being mercilessly shot at by multitudes of junior high boys) that I realized I had been trying to run backwards up a ramp. That was five days ago, y’all, and my left leg STILL hurts.