Friday, February 15, 2008

If the Pastor isn't here with his kids and his bad attitude, I'm usually all alone, which is fine with me. Every so often, though, one of the church members will stop by for one reason or another and our conversations are always so special (like, short-bus-special).

This church has been here for almost a century, and most of its members live on land that's been passed down through generations and only recently has been engulfed by the expansion of the city. Many of them live on streets that were named after their families, next to their brothers and sisters and parents and whoever. Apparently there's another Lutheran church here on land that the King of England once gave them, and they've been there longer than we've had a country. This isn't really important to my point, I just think it's just amazing.

Anyway, most of the people I've met are very nice, very Southern, and very slightly awkward. But there's one couple who are SUPER awkward. On the first day I met them, the wife introduced herself and explained that they were there to clean the church. I said, "Ok, great. I'm Rachel, it's nice to meet you." She responded, "I know who you are!" (like a teenage girl that's telling her parents something so obvious) and turned and walked away. Her husband just grinned, waved at me, and followed her. So. Wierd.


The husband has a strange quality that I can't describe. He has the unfortunate habit of standing and waiting for you to address him first, even if all he's saying is "I'm leaving now." I'm thinking of testing this out by not saying ANYTHING to him next time i see him, and timing how long it takes him to speak. He'll just stand there and grin until I ask him what he needs. This drives me crazy because I have a polite but very no-nonsense, right-to-the-point style of conversation while multi-tasking. His wife is exactly the opposite. She'll offer up all manner of information without so much as a word on my part.

Later that day, before they left, they came in to get a photocopy of something.
Her: So, are you from around here, Rachel?
Me: No, actually, I'm a Denver native. My husband's family is here.
Her: Where do you live?
Me: Oh, off of XXXXXXXX street.
Her: What developement?
Me: (why is she asking me this?) Honestly, I can't remember the name.
Her: My son lives in a different developement. On XXXXX street. You know, it's in between this developement and... no, what's the other one called? You know, it's accross from another developement... (she rattled on for at least a minute as if this was a matter of life and death if she doens't tell me what developement her son and his family live in.)
Me: (totally bored with the conversation) Yeah, um, I think I've driven past it.
Her: Of course, him and his wife, now, they've been there for XX years, and they like it, you know. Ok. You have a nice day, now. (she walks away)

A different day, she stopped by for some reason and popped into my office. No "beautiful day, isn't it?", no "good morning". She begins as if we're already in the midst of a verbal exchange, and ends it as abruptly as she began it.
Her: Now, name and name -well, that's my daughter, of course, and her husband. Have you met daughter yet?
Me: No, I haven't. (so confused)
Her: Well, her and her husband have child and other child. Have you met them?
Me: No, but I've seen the names.
Her: I'm going to take
daughter to a concert. You know, I think it would just be real nice for her to go out. Kenny... Kenny... What's his last name?

Me: ... uhh... (shrugs shoulders)
Her: Anyway, he's playing with another guy, and that girl, you know her? And Kenny... Chesney. Kenny Chesney, you know him?
Me: Actually, I hate country music. (I do not mince words.)
Her: Oh, well I'm not such a big fan myself, but it's so nice to get out of the house from time to time, you know, but he's pretty good, and I can really get into the music, you know. I really think you would like him! And...
Me: No, I mean I really, really can't tolerate country music at all.
Her: Well, I just think it's real nice just to get out the house sometimes, you know, and she really likes Kenny Chesney, and this other girl... now what is her name? You know her, the blond girl. Real cute.
Me: .... (at a total loss) That sounds nice.
Awkward silence. She absentmindedly runs her hand through her sensible, short gray hair.
Her: Yeah, I didn't do much with my hair today, I just ran a brush through it...... alright, then, Rachel, I suppose I may be speakin' to you later. (and she's gone)

I sat in stunned silence for a few moments. I wasn't sure what had just happened. I'm still not sure.