The Gum of Love
The scene was chaos, music pounding, bodies colliding. And the price point? At $5, the Twilight Concert Series in downtown Salt Lake City fit every budget, including my young-broke-single-eligible bachelor budget. It was the summer of 2012, and I was fresh off an LDS mission and on a new mission: Operation Soulmate.
Like all others over the course of history, my friends and I knew that finding the boldest, strongest, most celestial women meant plowing to the front of the rowdy mass of people to where the real action was taking place — center stage. We trudged through the crowd, slipping past sweat-smudged mosh pit bodies that reeked and dripped until we matched them, emitting a stench that would make a pig self-conscious, all the while attempting to sing along to songs we’d never heard before.
At the front of the crowd, all partiers seemed bent on trampling at least one person that night. The constant pushing kept everyone on their toes. We stuck close together and gave a friendly “nudge” to anyone who nudged us.
Then, there in the violent crowd, a light, an apparition — nay, an angel! — petite and blonde, wings hidden, making her way toward us, and nearly directly toward me. She navigated her way through the mosh pit with the feet of a skilled dancer, prancing and pirouetting. She came, closer and closer. Then, just before me — to talk to me? I hoped.
She began talking to my friend. They appeared to know each other. I was undeterred. My vision narrowed in on her. All around were common beings, but she, she was not of this world. I realized that, having found a celestial being here in this ordinary world, a woman of such small stature, elegance, and beauty, it was my duty, as a gentleman, to protect her!
I widened my arms to hold the crashing bodies off of her and leaned back to keep myself from being knocked over. She never spoke a word to me, but from the moment I saw her I was enchanted, the victim of some powerful spell. My back was taking a real beating, but the pain did little to phase me. I had the best kind of motivation standing squarely in front of me. I gazed silently at this mystery angel who had descended into my life. Daydreaming of things of eternity, I was lost in a fanciful world where the both of us were frolicking through a field of colorful flowers in full bloom. Then it happened.
Among the blows I was taking came one of notable magnitude. I felt a hard jab in my upper back and my head flew backward as my chest fell forward. The jerky movement caused my mouth to open and out flew my gum — rocketed into the air like the Apollo at liftoff. Time stood still as it sailed through the air, a little, pink, tooth-pressed wad soaring skyward. And then down, down, a heat-seeking missile. Destiny must have been guiding that little piece of over-chewed gum because it somehow managed to find its way straight down the mystery girl’s modest shirt. Right. Down. The middle.
Instinctively, my arms began to raise, like a referee after a successful field goal attempt, but I forced them down. “And it’s good!” I thought, the words playing in my mind like a sports commentator had skillfully spoken them. Cheering — I heard cheering in my ears. “Get a grip on yourself, Parker!”
A look of absolute horror came over her face. I froze. What was she thinking? I didn’t know whether to act surprised or come up with some lame comment like “I called bank!” What ended up coming out was a subtle but audible laugh, the kind where one’s eyes close and most of it comes out pathetically through the nose. Then I decided to follow up that charming trick with a lame comment, saying: “Can I have it back?”
I tried to force a lame smile to go along with the lame joke. The bewilderment in her eyes at that moment still haunts me. I had just broken the ice with a sledgehammer, or maybe even a nuclear bomb. It took me a painfully long time to realize that she thought I meant to do it. In her eyes, a complete stranger had just eyed her, aimed, and fired. Had I opened a dictionary at that moment and looked up the word “idiot” my awkward mug would have been staring back at me.
But love would not be denied. After composing herself, she provided me with a courtesy laugh and introduced herself: “I’m Taynee,” she said with a slight smile. “Parker,” I answered, “pleasure to meet you.” (Okay, I probably said, “Hey, I’m Parker,” but this sounds way better, right?)
What happened next? I got her back to the next concert the following week by promising to show up “with a mouth full of gum.” We fell in love and got married the following summer.
So what should you take from all this? Well, if you’re trying to find that special person, do not come to me for advice. Just go get some Juicy Fruit.
