Pro-tip: don’t put your shoes on in the dark, especially when you own multiples of the same style of footwear in different colors. I noticed hours too late, in the middle of this morning’s chapel sermon as I was crossing one foot over the other; the lighting in this photo doesn’t do the shoes justice, but one is blue and the other a patterned black. Naturally, we had communion that day and I had to walk up to the front, though God did me a solid and arranged things so that I ended up on the altar’s side rails. If anyone noticed, they didn’t know me well enough to point and laugh.
I did, however, manage to creep out a girl at Panera Bread, who caught me taking this picture. From her angle it probably looked like I was trying to get an up-skirt shot of the soda fountain while I waited for my food. I grinned at her but didn’t explain.
I was also sorely tempted to stay and wait around food pickup for B. Faulkenstern to come by for his meal. The restaurant prints everyone’s names in huge font on the receipts stapled to the paper carry-out bags, and I wanted to find out if Faulkenstern was a book character and/or worth marrying. “Schultz” may be solidly, respectably German, but I have my fingers secretly crossed that if I ever get married I can upgrade my last name to something a little more unique. Every now and again someone will get excited over my last name (“Oh! Do you know so-and-so?”), but there are so many so-and-so’s out there (many of them spelled incorrectly, from Shultz to Schulz to the self-indulgent Schulze) that it’s always no. Except the one time it wasn’t, and it turned out the guy attempting to sell me a mattress from the back of his self-storage rental unit had gone to high school with my cousins.
That was a particularly strange afternoon.
Writing Report: Still chapter 6.