Abort

I finally found myself a lazy summer afternoon, so I headed to the beach to give a change of scenery for my study backdrop. It was picture-perfect weather for a beach day, and the only thing that would have made it better was if my textbooks had decided to read themselves.

I'm not much of a lay-out-and-tan person, so reclining on my towel with a book is fine for only very short periods of time. I frequently overheat and head to the water for a cold refresher. During one of these lazy water breaks, a fellow from the group just downshore from me began wading my direction. I reflexively began staring off toward the horizon, avoiding eye contact with this male figure in his early-twenties. My 180º back toward shore was a turn to the right, away from him, to further avoid locking gazes – a sort of "safe on first base with no intention of advancing" move. I timed my pace through the water to be as fast as possible without making undue splashes. As I reached knee-deep water, however, my peripheral vision locked on to his wading trajectory, and I knew our paths would cross unless I altered my course drastically. Sprinting the opposite direction or dunking under water didn't seem socially appropriate at the time, so I braced myself for impact.

"I saw you came to the beach by yourself today! Just wondering if you wanted to come sit by us; it's a great day!"
I felt the stares of his group members, and knew they were watching for (and placing wagers on) the outcome of the conversation.
I explained that I was just studying, and delicately declined his offer. He pressed further, asking what I was studying, and where, if I enjoyed it, if I could study with others around. After I gave a truncated explanation of my major and school, his interest seemed to wane and he politely ended the conversation, returning to his group.

I plopped down at my study spot to open my books again, one eye focused on the bold conversationalist's return to his expectant group. Muffled queries from the huddle were met with a boisterous, "Abort! Abort!... at Andrews... Advenits... I immediately thought, 'Abort!'"

My initial reaction was one of pride. The Andrews name is known, and affiliated with Adventism! And I am affiliated with both!!
Second reaction? Disappointment. I'm not the girl to be approached on the beach by a stranger, and I don't really want to be, but that's not why I was less than pleased.

What is it about Andrews and Advenits that links up with Abort? It seems my beach-going acquaintance would rather jump ship than speak with an Adventist. What conditioned this response?

Is it, perhaps, something like the reflexive reaction I was the first to give? To avoid eye contact, balking at an encounter with someone who has a beverage in hand and a whole lot of my prejudice dragging along behind?


We're all on a collision course with someone. Be ready to paint a picture that's palatable. Bitter flavors aren't easily forgotten.