You know, I had so much fun selling plasma the first time that I decided to go back again today and repeat the experiment.

Only, being your typical savy college student, I thought to myself that it might be wise to eat/drink something BEFORE I went this time, to avoid potentially passing out on their nice clean linoleum floor. However, I was coming directly from school, and I'd forgotten to pack anything before I left this morning, so...that's right. Thank You, Lord, for Taco Bell.

I hadn't been at a Taco Bell for...I don't know...a year? I noticed immediately that the staff of this particular place in downtown Lynchburg was remarkably friendly, especially for a fast-food restaurant. Maybe it was just the fact that I was a girl, and I was alone, or maybe I just have "SUCKER" written across my forehead, but either way, I had to kind of chuckle at the enthusiasm of the young man who beamed down upon me with warm benevolence as he proudly handed me two tacos.

All I wanted was to get something with a little protein, grab some fluids, eat, and then get out, but no sooner had I sat down at a little table off to one side than the resident PR man came striding proudly up to my table. He must have been in his early seventies, and his name was Irvin. He asked me if I was from these parts, and when I said I haled from Wisconsin, his face lit up and he proceeded to tell me enthusiastically everything that he knew about Wisconsin from his brief tour through the state.

His enthusiasm and earnestness were endearingly cute, so I kept him going with a few questions here and there as I ate my tacos. I think perhaps he was lonely, and I've a bit of a soft spot for lonely old people (hey, some day I might be one myself, you know). He stood beside me talking animatedly, with me nodding appreciatively since I couldn't get a word in edgewise anyway, until his sense of duty pulled him away to speak with other guests of the establishment.

As soon as Irvin had moved on, the young man who had so smilingly handed me my order came breezing out from behind the counter and politely asked if he could take my tray, if I was through with it? I smiled, and said he might, and marveled to myself at receiving that kind of service at a Taco Bell. As he walked away with my tray, he called back over his shoulder, "I'm Jake, by the way."

Hi Jake. Nice to meet you. Thank you for clearing my tray.

I sat for a moment longer, looking out the window at the traffic, enjoying my sweet tea, and pondering the deeper lessons of life.

Irvin came back to chat for a few moments--he was on his second round of the establishment, and the other five people in the place hadn't been much for conversation, apparently.

We talked a few moments, and then Jake came over. Irvin nodded to him proudly, "This is Jake. He's my pupil. I'm teachin' him stuff about PR."

"That's so great," I told Irvin jokingly, "You guys probably know everything there is to know about this place."

Jake nodded, and Irvin just looked slightly confused. A moment later, Irvin wandered off to continue his second round of PR visits, and Jake just came and stood beside my table looking rather awkward.

"Hey," he said finally, "I was wondering if I could call you sometime." He had to repeat it three times before I heard what he said, because he was so nervous he was mumbling, and talking reaaallly quiet.

Inwardly, I was thinking, really? Are we now SO desperate for prospects that we proposition the stray college students who come into Taco Bell?

I joked around with him a little bit, and eventually he realized that despite the fact that I was blonde and feel comfortable talking to pretty much anyone, I'm not so naive as to be giving out my phone number to every Joe, Larry, Dick, and Harry and their distant cousins.

So he very generously gave me his phone number instead, and told him that I should just call him. Um, yeah. Definitely will be getting RIGHT on that, buster.

As I drove away, I wondered if I should have taken his humanity a little more seriously...maybe sat him down, asked him some questions, explained why I don't date, told him why it's probably an unwise investment of time to have phone conversations with people one doesn't know the first thing about, and asked him where he was headed in life, what his purpose is, and whether he's ever personally encountered the love and grace and forgiveness of the God who binds up the broken-hearted and comforts the chronically single...

But the other side of my mind told me that it wasn't my place...because he's a guy, and because his motive in asking for my number was probably not that of seeking for genuine conversation with an individual who cares more about his humanity than his gender and the amount he can benchpress.

All in all, it gave me something to think about this afternoon as I watched my lifeblood oozing away into plastic bottles...because in an odd sort of way, it's funny to think about the emotions and drives that make us tick--that cause humans to do the crazy things that we do.

On a different note, musing on how strangely we sometimes behave gives me a new perspective on--and new appreciation for--the patience of my friends and family, and the long-suffering persistence of God as He continues to walk beside each one of us in the long and often tedious process of sanctification...woohoo!