Today I met Melissa.

I was in my garage sanding the trash table find by hand (http://lifehappens.joeuser.com/index.asp?AID=155909) and mumbling under my breath.  It was about 86 degrees and 80 percent humidity.  Once I stripped the piece, I found the stains.  Deep stains that no amount of sanding will erase, thus the grumbling. 

A short young woman with red hair pinned atop a sweating head approached my garage.  She was wearing a white AT&T shirt and black pants.  She asked if I wanted to switch phone service.  I said nah, I get a promo rate from Time Warner.  She said they can’t beat TW’s promo rate.

The official conversation was over.  I kept sanding expecting her to walk away, but she continued to stand there watching me.

She asked me for a glass of water.  I stopped sanding, reached into the fridge and handed her a cold bottled water.  I grabbed a chair and put it by the fan.  I invited her to sit and rest while she enjoyed the drink.

She sat.

In the back of my mind there was a soft click.  The same click I get when in situations that seem surreal, like there are two of me.  One is participating and the other is silently watching.  Comfortable with events but at the same time knowing this is a pivotal moment.  I just didn’t know if it was for her, or for me.

I went back to sanding. 

I asked how long she worked for AT&T.  She said 3 weeks, in a management program.  I asked her age….27, but she was trying not to freak out about being 28 next month.

I asked if she liked going door to door.  She said there were two others working the subdivision with her, also management trainees, but no she hated it.  They were required to do it before running their own crews to “see what its like.”

She talked about being a road rage driver, the price of gas, breaking up with her ex boyfriend a couple months ago, her mom, her sister.

I listened.

I sweated.

I sanded.

The topic switched to illegal immigrants.  She’s a Democrat but thinks all illegals should be deported and not given amnesty.  She asked which political group I claim.

I told her I’m an American; I try to vote for the person.  But, if I must choose then Republican.  (Though currently I don’t feel represented.)

She nodded and said there were some Republican ideas she liked but didn’t name them.

I kept sanding and sweating and occasionally blowing dust off my piece and sneaking peeks at her.  Unlike when I was younger, I am able to sense these “pivotal moments” and don’t rush them.  I didn’t feel the urge to talk much at all, so I listened instead.

She spent a solid 20 minutes telling me more about her self before bringing the topic back to politics. 

At that point I was compelled to offer my own views while continuing to sand, and sand, and sand.  I told her my take on personal responsibility.

She nodded, but I could tell she didn’t know what I was talking about.  So I used an example.

I am pro-life.

She’s pro-choice, but no third trimester abortions.

I asked if she knew when a fetus is human, did she have any idea?  She said no, and no one can really prove when the soul exists.  So she guessed when you can see the genitals of the child, it’s a child.

I agreed “when life begins” will probably never be agreed upon.  But why some people err on the side of death and not the side of life is beyond me.

She didn’t think the government should tell women what to do with their bodies.

I asked her how that’s different than the government telling us to wear seat belts.  Not smoke in public places.  Stuff like that.

I mentioned my issues with women who spread their legs and then want to kill a child instead of owning up to the behavior.  And especially those who want to do it at tax payer expense.

If I am queen and abortion HAS to be legal…..then the mom wouldn’t be allowed to pay someone else to do it.  I think if she wants it done, she should birth the child, and then have to look it in the face while she kills it.  She gave me a strange look.  (What?  I have strong opinions on it.  Though I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever shared that one with anyone outside of JU.)

I asked if she thought abortion was just about killing babies, or more about a woman wanting to have unprotected sex without any consequences.  And where personal responsibility played into that?

At this point her visit was well over the hour mark.

She thinks if a woman gets pregnant then “it’s her own fault.  Because that’s what condoms are for…..and, um, I think I am pregnant right now.  And it is totally MY fault.”

I asked how far along, she said maybe 6 weeks but she’s not sure.  Morning sickness and a positive pregnancy test are all she knows right now for sure.

I asked if the ex boyfriend she mentioned earlier was the dad.  She said he wasn’t but she had a good idea who was.  She wouldn’t know for sure though until she knows how far the pregnancy is.

I kept sanding and asked if she’d consider adoption.

She said no way.

I asked if the dad would help.  She smiled and told me it depended on who the dad turned out to be.

I mentioned there are some places in town that help unwed mothers.  She shrugged and said her mom and sister would help out.  She hasn’t told them, or anyone besides me, yet.  She is graduating with an associates from a local college as a paralegal next year and assured me it was a good living.

Her phone rang.  She told her two co-workers to pick her up at my house.

I kept sanding and she talked some more until her ride arrived.

As she was leaving I said, goodbye, and good luck.

She thanked me and walked away.

I stopped sanding and watched her get into the car.  She looked out the window at me, smiled, and nodded.

At that moment, I got the distinct impression Melissa came into my garage debating whether or not to have an abortion.  And when she left I think in her mind the debate was done.

I’d like to say I know what she decided, but I don’t. 

The entire episode was bizarre, in a comforting sort of way.

And I can't shake the feeling I will see her again.