Jackpot-ish

Yesterday I went to a coffee shop and quickly introduced myself to the attractive male barista working the counter. "Jackpot" was my initial thought, I had finally zeroed in on a place that could make a london fog, provide adequate seating, and ample flirting opportunities.

It took about five minutes to have the life story out of coffee guy--and as he answered the well poised questions...

...my thoughts whirred happily, and from a millisecond of conversation, I began to consider the possibilities of dates and conversation for which I seemed to be starving.

After all, I mused, finding a guy who shares my relative age, my unmarried/unattached-ness, my proximity, AND my faith?


Anything but possible.

The next thought in my head: "Maybe he doesn't believe in God, does it matter?"  << (gasp) >>

Seeing as I am quite unaware of my own identity, compromising who the church tells me I am shouldn't be to difficult.

No one likes to be told who they are, especially when they don't know themselves.

This string of quick firing assessments led me to conclude I would not base any summer romance on spiritual status. Let whatever happens be-- no guilt, no conviction.

Funny thing, I know how this story goes. I know the warnings and comments to pair with such 'rebellious' conclusions.

But maybe knowing is not enough.

I'm just not sure what is.