Oh Sister Missionaries!

I love BYU’s candy counter. I’ve consequently gotten to know about everyone who works there, and never pass up the opportunity for a free sample.

Today I was talking with them about how the women Broadcast Journalism majors have to cut their hair to be on TV. The conversation shifted to when you submit your mission papers you have to include a picture. It’s a fact that the good-looking Sister missionaries can get into more doors, and consequently have a lot of success.

Then I say: “It’s funny how good looks and sex-appeal play a vital role in even missionary work.”

The girls at the candy counter nod their heads in agreement. Then freeze.

I get that pit feeling in my stomach, just like a little kid when he’s caught under the kitchen table shoveling down candy. With a quiver, my eyes follow the frozen candy counter girl’s eyes – to right beside me.

There stands an elderly sister missionary, just staring at me. I read her nametag twice, hardly believing that I just said sex appeal and missionary work in the same sentence in her presence. Then she laughs, and says that she agrees with a smile.

All of us are dumbstruck. I stare back at the candy counter, make some excuse that I have to leave, and ran-walked out of there. 

The worst part of this experience hit me as I left – I didn’t even get my free sample today! 

Two of the most successful missionaries in my mission. Good looks correlation? 

Snuggie Night

I know. Just reading the title you know that this story has a special place in my heart.

One of my buddies had told me about the snuggie night at the Utah Flash game last weekend. Apparently all those wearing snuggies would be let in free. Immediately I imagined the Celestial Kingdom – everyone robed in a warm snuggie, cheering for a basketball team with free movement of their arms.

I was in.

After some convincing I talked my girlfriend into going with me. Choosing from my selection of four snuggies was difficult, but she refused to let me wear my pink snuggie in public. We go in matching blue. Cute, huh?

So we pull into the parking lot, and it’s full but at the same time seems desolate. None of the static electricity of snuggies in the air. I’m anxiously pressing toward the entrance like a dog after a bone.

We walk into the stadium. There were lights. People. But no basketball. Snuggie Night was a different day!

Two people in a giant arena in their snuggies. Luckily there was an event happening – a home show, so at least we could pretend that we were doing something in our apparel. The rest of the night was fun, and we got all sorts of neat stuff at the home show.

Perhaps the secret to any good night is to start with snuggies and see what happens. 

3-Piece Suit + 2 Sharp Safety Pins

I was invited to a Jane Austen dance, and considering that I don’t have a bunch of extra classy suits with cravats lying around, I decided to borrow a friend’s 3-piece suit. 

He’s about my size, and being a man of course I didn’t try it on. It’s about 15 minutes before I’m about to pick up my date, and I go to put on the suit and it’s HUGE! I could have fit about 50 MC Hammer-sized pocketwatches in there!

Suspenders are such a practical invention. It’s really too bad I didn’t have any. I arrive at my date’s apartment, looking like a baller – but not because of the 3-piece suit, but because I’m holding my pants up and having to shuffle walk.

Luckily she has two safety pins. Little ones. Difficult to handle. Especially on the pants you’re wearing. There is no smooth way to do this. I get them in, and we go to the dance.

I go to sit in the car, and we’re talking as we drive. Then in my nether regions, I hear a clear “POP” as one of the safety pins comes out. The freedom of the first safety pin must have encouraged that of the second, because it followed suit and popped out.

There is something terrifying that comes upon a man when he knows that he has two sharply-tipped safety pins open in his pants.

I play it cool, and when we arrive I pull the little daggers out of my trousers and go baggin’ into the dance. I eventually get it figured out, and went the entire dance without making any sudden movements.

I think I understand a little better why old men hike up their pants and sit down slowly when approaching a chair. 

Actual picture from the night, behind my smile is a deep fear of being stabbed by the safety pins holding my pants up