Look, blog post! Please forgive.
More than two months ago — it was the end of August — I was walking home from Sunday dinner at a friend’s, and my ward prayer was happening outside. I had just moved in to a new ward and was starting to get to know people. I turned down a potluck invitation from a new friend because I already told the other friend I’d come to dinner. And as I approached this ward prayer crowd, I wondered if I would see this new friend and ask him about leftovers. I saw a girl I met earlier that day, and we decided together to try to meet new people. I asked if anyone else knew about the potluck, and somebody — I don’t remember who — told me to ask some name I don’t remember, that he was a bald guy standing with another cluster of talking people.
So, I moseyed over to the neighboring circle of strangers and asked the bald guy if he knew about the potluck. He didn’t. But while I was talking to him, I decided to get to know him.
He told me his name is Reilly. We ended up having a decent conversation about books and movies and music. We talked about the Borders going-out-of-business sale, and he told me about the biannual Salt Lake City Public Library sale, where paperbacks are fifty cents and hardcovers are a dollar. And that usually happens in October. He said he’d amassed quite a few books in the past few months, and I told him I’d like to see his book collection sometime. He seemed a little hesitant at the idea.
Recently he told me that he thought I was 20 when we first met.
We went to the Real Salt Lake City soccer game that following Saturday.
And I did go over to look at this books. And the songs on his iTunes.
Over the weeks, I’ve made hints about my age to him, because that’s what I do:
-living more than 6.5 years in New York City after some time at BYU in 2002
-being about 6 years older than my brother
-seeing certain movies in the theater, like Back to the Future and A League of Their Own
-saying that I was in 7th grade when Ted Bundy was executed, at the state prison, about an hour away from where I lived
Then a couple weeks ago, we were on our way to stand in line at the Velour for a concert. We ran into some classmates that I know from Senegal, and they were nice enough to let us cut in front of them in line. These classmates are now officially a couple, after quasi-sneaking their way around dating during the last couple of weeks of the trip. The girl was my roommate, and I told Reilly that they happened to put the Floridians in the same room, who also happened to be the oldest and youngest students. Then I remarked that three birthdays of people on the trip were in the month of May and there was a party, and I observed that I was closer in age to the professor whose birthday was also that month than most of the other students.
Except for the Skabelunds. They’re old. 😉
He says our ages don’t matter.
I’m glad for this.