Chumlee gon’ make me act up

Speaking of proselytizing, there are a lot of priests visiting campus lately. Two priests-in-training approached me as I sat alone. This is stupid, but I didn’t feel like working on my homework, so I didn’t shoo them away. I tried to be polite. When I saw Anaïs approaching, waved, and she came to my rescue.

“Would you like to have a conversation about what you believe?” one of the priests-in-training – what should I call them, “uncles”? – asked.

I grabbed Anaïs’ arm and said, “Honey, what do you think?”

As usual, the men ignored this sapphic display.

What proceeded was a long, boring, aimless, and awkward conversation between two men of faith and two nonbelievers, and I was grateful for it to be wrapping up when they asked, “Is there anything you’d like us to pray for you?”

I smiled and kindly said, “Peace – nonviolence – the state of the world.” And Anaïs said, “Abortion.”

My jaw dropped like a thick, heavy bible. The uncles were silent. One of them blushed and stuttered, “You mean you want women to have more abortions?”

Having listened to all that talk about being saved made me feel really desperate for someone to save me from this excruciating conversation. I looked up at the ceiling as if some higher being would be there, watching over me, and then Mr. Spock and I locked eyes as he walked down the stairs.

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