So . . . how are the . . . uh . . . the ladies?

Having just moved in, there we sat Thursday night gathered around the TV. We each had our various plans for the evening, from a ninja-pirate party to a Target run. Yet, there we sat together, the four of us. Innocent as the evening began, the mood of the room was united in a silent acknowledgement of the task before us: a new school year with new dating opportunities. Whether through the ward, our jobs, referrals, or chance happening, we each understood the endless possibilities supplied by the social scene at BYU. With hope in abundance and expectations high, the mood of our apartment was one of anticipation and excitement. However, like the unknowing bass who bites at a worm only to end up on a dinner table hours later, our lives changed in an instant.

It all began when the Elder's Quorum President walked in. After the necessary introductions of sorts, the following conversation ensued:

Alex: "I don't want to be known as that guy, but you've lived here now for a year and probably know the ward pretty well, so . . . how are the . . . uh . . . the ladies?"

EQP: "Well . . . um . . . you know . . . um . . ."

(silence)

EQP: "You know, I'm hopeful. It seems like there might be a few cuties moving into the ward. Yeah--I'm hopeful."

Wow. What a wonderfully reassuring response. The hesitation and trepidation in his answer was more than enough. As if our prize stallion had just been laid to rest, the room was still and silent; no one turned off the lights, but it felt darker.

And with that, we had our first impression of the new ward. As he left our apartment, the EQP turned back to us and said "Well guys, welcome--glad you're here."

Expressionless, we robotically responded: "It's good to be here."