Mini-stories from the Barlow Center!

Exchange in Class

Student: “My dad said that the only thing Americans are willing to pay for and not get is an education.”
Professor: “Oh, isn’t that what ‘so and so’ said?”
Student: “No, that’s what my dad said.”

Long Distance Visiting Teaching

Last week my visiting teaching supervisor tried to call me on my cell phone to see if I had done my visiting teaching for January. But the phone sheet she was using had the number for my parent’s home in Utah, so she ended up calling them instead! (But apparently didn’t ask them for my cell phone) The funniest thing about this, in my opinion, is the fact that we see each other every day and literally live across the hall. Oh, and she ended up getting the report from me face-to-face at church today—in front of a bunch of other sisters all in line for the one small restroom—so it’s all good now.

To Torture or not to Torture?

During the class briefing on torture this Friday, the speaker presented us with a scenario: You’re at the jam-packed Rose Bowl, you get word that there’s been a bomb planted, you have captured someone who might know where it is. Is it okay to torture him for information? We had a great, heated discussion on the issue, but my favorite quote of all time came from this one girl who was opposed to torture in this case, but willing to relent in something a bit more extreme:

“If he’s standing right there with a bomb threatening to kill everyone, then...maybe...we could torture him....”

Great point, except...um...there’s no reason to torture him to find out where the bomb is if he’s holding it....? Ba-da-BOOM!

An Awkbarrassing Moment

Last night, while walking downstairs from the girl’s (fourth) floor to the first floor, I happened to glance into the boys’ window on the third floor and notice that the hall light was off. Curious, I looked inside the window for a second. Since the light was off, there was obviously nothing to be seen, so I turned to keep walking, and...whups, there’s a guy just sitting there on the stairs with a book, and he’s looking at me. Time froze as a dozen thoughts rushed through my head. Do I try to explain to him that I don’t normally peer into the boys’ third floor window, or do I treat it as a normal part of my nightly routine? Should I pretend the incident didn’t even happen? Should I pretend that I thought it was the girls’ floor? Should I ignore him altogether?

**************
Me: “Oh! Uh, hey!”
Him: “Hey.”
Me: “Um, so how do you guys turn off your hall light? I can’t figure out how to turn off ours.”
Him: “I...don’t know.”
Me: “Hmmm.... Oh well.” (Hurriedly walk past)

Dish-drying Manipulation 101

A is drying A’s own dishes after washing and rinsing them. B comes into the kitchen and sees A drying dishes.

B: “Oh, that is SO sweet of you to be drying our dishes!”
A: “Oh, thanks...” (realizes the implications of this statement too late)

Conclusion? B walks away. A ends up drying about three times the number of dishes she had intended to in order to save face.

What makes the Barlow Center RED!?!

At Institute on Thursday, Br. Blanchard was describing socialism to differentiate between it and the law of consecration; he explained that a socialist system regulated the actions of its members through surveillance, rules, and authoritarian means, rather than through honor and willing obedience like the law of consecration. At this point, Becky leaned over to me and whispered, “It sounds kinda like the Barlow Center.” I had to bury my head in my scriptures to hide my snort of laughter.

Trying to make conversation while washing dishes...

A: “How was the National Zoo?”
B: “It was good.”
C: “Oh, you went to the Zoo? How was that?”
B: “Good.”

[Pause........]

C: “So, um, was it, worth the trip?”
B: “It was free.”

C: “Oh....well, that’s pretty...good.”
B: (Nothing)
C: “Ummm.....so.....where is it?”
B: “It’s on the red line. You just get off, and you walk.”
C: “Oh? ....Okay."

The Cover Up

A week or so ago, I walked into the Smithsonian Castle and up to the security guard for the routine purse-check that they do at every Smithsonian museum. It was a freezing cold day and I was still wearing my gloves, hat, and scarf.

“Is that good?” I asked, starting to take my bag back as she finished the check.

She replied, in a very tired, matter-of-fact voice.

“Uncover, please.”

I was a little taken aback, since no one at any other museum had asked me this before. “What?”

“Uncover,” she repeated.

I took off my hat, a little curious as to the reason. I guess I could have hidden something (WHAT?) in my hat to get it past security...so it sort of made sense...except that I had never been asked to do it before, so...

“No, uncover!”

She motioned, annoyed, to her face. Finally, it dawned on me that she wanted me to take off my scarf, which I was still wearing tightly wrapped around my face to keep it warm! Sufficiently intimidated into quick action, I immediately separated my face from the scarf, flinging bits of drool, snot, and lint everywhere, and was allowed to proceed unhindered once she discovered that I did, indeed, have a mouth and teeth and a chin like everyone else in line.

I walked past her into the museum, amused at the entire incident, and have spent the days since in trying to figure out three things.

1. Was she afraid that I could have hidden something in my scarf, or did she think I, like a burglar, was trying to hide my face from the security cameras?

2. Would she have allowed a Muslim woman to walk in with a covered face? What if the Muslim woman refused to “uncover,” based on religious claims? Would there have been a case?

3. What did she THINK would be the first thing to go through my mind when she said, “Uncover”? I mean, HONESTLY. If she were a guy, I think I would have taken the purse and run for it.