Hail Mary, full of grace...
Protesters who don't want to be ID'd usually park around the back of the clinic, around the corner of Alta Arden. We can see their cars through the fence near the entrance, but can't read the plates. I let Eileen know that I'm going to go write them down, and she tells me that I should probably drive around there.
No, I say. I'm not scared to walk.
We go back around the corner of the clinic, where there are about 100 people lined up near the grass, their yellow balloons swaying in the breeze.
I stop for a second to take it all in. I don't see Wynette. She must be addressing her ranks.
I put a smile on my face, pad of paper, pen, and camera in hand. I start to walk. I be sure to make eye contact with anyone who looks at me. We all say good morning to each other, and everyone looks happy. I start to relax a little, and then I actually start to smile. A real smile.
I make it past the line of protesters and continue for a few towards the cars. I stop and write down the license plates, bumper stickers, etc.
Suddenly there's a man on my right. I didn't jump, but he surprised me.
"Do you mind me asking why you're writing down our license plate numbers?"
I stop writing and turn to look at him, trying to judge how much trouble he plans to give me. He's holding up his ipad as he speaks. He's filming the whole thing.
"I'm writing them down for our safety, just like you're filming all of this for your safety."
He makes a point of closing the case of his ipad and lets it drop to his waist. We start to walk towards the clinic together.
I make a remark about the weather and we talk for a second about how beautiful today is. We're getting closer to the balloons, giving away the breeze.
He tells me that he wants everything to remain respectful, that even though we obviously disagree on certain things, he wants to make sure that everyone stays civil and respectful, because nothing else was their intention.
I stay away from the phrase "agree to disagree," but I tell him that I agree with him, that we're just regular people who happen to disagree with each other. I thank him for not turning the protest into something else, because everyone had been really great so far.
I stop for a second and look at him.
"I'm Amanda, by the way."
He smiles at me. His teeth are like the sun, and I almost stare at them for a second too long.
I wasn't expecting him to tell me his name. They never do.
"I'm Jeff."
His handshake is firm, but not too firm. That kind of handshake says a lot about a person.
You know, he says, you're always welcome to join us whenever you want.
I give him a funny look that makes him laugh. "Gee, thanks" I say, while moving me arm across my body.
We both laugh, and we're standing in front of the other protesters. I say goodbye and start to walk away.
Please marry me.
I think I need therapy.
On my way back down the line, passing all of the people who smile at me and politely move out of the way, I spot Wynette.
"Hi Amanda, how have you been?"
"I'm good! Haven't seen you in a long time. How are you doing?"
"I'm good..." She starts to say, making a silent point that she would be better if we weren't murdering babies.
I ignore that silent hit and keep smiling at her before I turn around and make my way back to the entrance of the clinic parking lot.
It takes everything within me to not tell everyone about the guy I ran into.
Wynette's crazy. He wasn't.
No, I say. I'm not scared to walk.
We go back around the corner of the clinic, where there are about 100 people lined up near the grass, their yellow balloons swaying in the breeze.
I stop for a second to take it all in. I don't see Wynette. She must be addressing her ranks.
I put a smile on my face, pad of paper, pen, and camera in hand. I start to walk. I be sure to make eye contact with anyone who looks at me. We all say good morning to each other, and everyone looks happy. I start to relax a little, and then I actually start to smile. A real smile.
I make it past the line of protesters and continue for a few towards the cars. I stop and write down the license plates, bumper stickers, etc.
Suddenly there's a man on my right. I didn't jump, but he surprised me.
"Do you mind me asking why you're writing down our license plate numbers?"
I stop writing and turn to look at him, trying to judge how much trouble he plans to give me. He's holding up his ipad as he speaks. He's filming the whole thing.
"I'm writing them down for our safety, just like you're filming all of this for your safety."
He makes a point of closing the case of his ipad and lets it drop to his waist. We start to walk towards the clinic together.
I make a remark about the weather and we talk for a second about how beautiful today is. We're getting closer to the balloons, giving away the breeze.
He tells me that he wants everything to remain respectful, that even though we obviously disagree on certain things, he wants to make sure that everyone stays civil and respectful, because nothing else was their intention.
I stay away from the phrase "agree to disagree," but I tell him that I agree with him, that we're just regular people who happen to disagree with each other. I thank him for not turning the protest into something else, because everyone had been really great so far.
I stop for a second and look at him.
"I'm Amanda, by the way."
He smiles at me. His teeth are like the sun, and I almost stare at them for a second too long.
I wasn't expecting him to tell me his name. They never do.
"I'm Jeff."
His handshake is firm, but not too firm. That kind of handshake says a lot about a person.
You know, he says, you're always welcome to join us whenever you want.
I give him a funny look that makes him laugh. "Gee, thanks" I say, while moving me arm across my body.
We both laugh, and we're standing in front of the other protesters. I say goodbye and start to walk away.
Please marry me.
I think I need therapy.
On my way back down the line, passing all of the people who smile at me and politely move out of the way, I spot Wynette.
"Hi Amanda, how have you been?"
"I'm good! Haven't seen you in a long time. How are you doing?"
"I'm good..." She starts to say, making a silent point that she would be better if we weren't murdering babies.
I ignore that silent hit and keep smiling at her before I turn around and make my way back to the entrance of the clinic parking lot.
It takes everything within me to not tell everyone about the guy I ran into.
Wynette's crazy. He wasn't.