(A)way with words

Yesterday was a whirlwind of weird and wonderful moments.

It all started with being a panelist for a discussion about how the faiths of three different women led us to social justice work. I was truly inspired by the other women on the panel. It also felt good to say out loud what brings me to my work, what fills my heart and soul, and how I am unable to do anything else as successfully without compromising my happiness and fulfillment. That was from 7am-9am.

At 9am I started my journey to Memphis for meetings for one of my jobs. I had four people scheduled in three meetings (12:30pm, 2pm and potentially 4pm). Through a series of unforeseen circumstances, some of which are detailed below, I didn't actually make it to my first meeting (with a revamped line-up of who I was meeting with) until 1:50pm.

The circumstances included such gems as: stop and go traffic due to lane closures for pot hole repairs on a major interstate midday, and getting pulled over by a state trooper...and taking the longest route to get to my destination once I entered Shelby County. The trooper was in an unmarked blue car that I saw as I crested a rolling hill. I slowed down as I passed him and thought I was in the clear, but I noticed the car pull up alongside me...carefully avoiding making eye contact as he was matching my below-the-limit speed...until he turned on the blue lights and we both pulled off the road.

He carefully exited his vehicle and walked to the shoulder, where I had my passenger window open and my wallet on my lap with my license in my right hand. "Do you know why I pulled you over?" "I have an idea." "Do you know how fast you were going?" "No ma'a...no sir." "78, in a 70. Where are you headed?" "Memphis for meetings with pastors." "What church do you go to?" "Oh, I don't work at a church, I work for _______." "What does _____ want with churches? Is there a problem we should know about?" "No sir, ______ is interested in working with congregations and their social action committees on everything from voter rights and student rights to free speech and more." "What does ________ think about (this conservative guy I know about) and what he says about gay marriage?" "I don't know who he is. What does he think about gay marriage?" "He is against it." "______ supports freedom of speech, and would defend his right to voice his opinions. __________ also supports the rights of gay couples to marry."

The trooper then told me about his plans to study criminal law and go to Nashville School of Law. I wished him luck. He handed me back my license and told me to remember that driving is a privilege and not a right. Did I mention that he was leaning intimidatingly into my car this whole time? There was more to the conversation, but it just got weirder. Oh, and I shook his hand before he left...after asking his name and giving him mine, not that I'd like to see him again.

The meetings all went well, and continued to get shuffled. One to this morning. Two others were combined.

After the meetings, I checked into my hotel in Midtown. Your typical low-end hotel with clean sheets, a bed, a tv, and a bathroom.

I'm pretty sure the guy who checked me in was checking me out. He also put me in a room at the very end of the hall on my floor, next to the emergency stairs. I feel like I'm in outer space, or at the very least pretty far away from anyone else. If I were with other people, or knew other people in the hotel, that would be fine. I'd love a quiet room at the end of the hall. As a single woman traveling, it creeps me out more than reassures me that I'll have a peaceful night.

After depositing my bags in the room--yes, I am staying for a single night and I have multiple bags (smallest suitcase in my collection, bag for meetings, purse and bag with car snacks and tunes)--I went back downstairs to get another pillow or two. The only guy at registration had a long winded, oblivious customer who managed to assemble a line of four people behind him. The clerk directed me to a workman down the hall and told me to ask him for the pillows, and to get them from the housekeeping room. As I walked down the hall, I hear a man behind me say, "I'm with her." Um, nope. No one is with me. That is why I'm not comfortable here. G-reat.

Turned out, he was looking for an extra pillow, too. The workman turned out to be a contractor pulling wires through the ceiling and was vacuuming up popcorn from the hallway that, presumably, he dropped earlier. The three of us ended up rummaging through the housekeeping supplies, first unable to open the linen closet, then unable to locate the pillowcases. The clerk eventually found us and gave us what we sought.

It was totally bizarre, but I was happier to go through that than have to anyone knock on my door. After finishing some work emails, I headed out to dinner, which was lovely.

What was not lovely, but was further unsettling was that when I returned from dinner, there was a patrol car in front of the hotel entrance and the officer belonging to the car was parked in the lobby.

Sweet dreams are made of these.