I snuck into the Fuller library again. They don't want me here since I'm a spouse and for some reason they seem to expect seminary couples to have the money for in-house internet. We don't, so here I am. I keep thinking one of the library staff is going to see me on Facebook and ask, "Are you a student here?"
"No, I'm the husband of a student. We do actually exist."
"The library is actually only for Fuller students and members of the theological community, from which spouses are excluded. Don't you guys know that it's *men* who are called to professional ministry?"
"I do know that--that's why I helped put on a puppet show for the kids at church a couple months ago."
"For the kids...you pussy. That's woman's work. What do you do for a living, macho man?"
"I'm a credit counselor."
"Sheesh. You ever break a sweat doing that?"
"Sometimes"
"If you're gonna let the misses wear the theological pants in the relationship, the least you could do is have a respectable career and make more money than her."
"Right now I do."
"Uh huh. And how much more?"
"$12 an hour more, except when she's TAing. She's full time, at least until she finishes in the Spring. And I'm wearing boxers, by the way."
"Why are your nails so long?"
"Huh? Oh. Before I answer that, I'll confuse you further. Look at the other hand"
"Fine then--why so long on the right and so short on the left? Is this some kind of fag fetish? Where did you *get* that ring, anyway? I suppose you've only been emasculated on the one side, is that it? That must be how you defend the puppetee--"
"I play guitar. I play country blues and ragtime."
"Maybe you have a Y chromosome after all. Legitimate seminary purposes only, sir. Please leave."
