Disclaimer: I think Women's Conference is a wonderful thing. Maybe I'll go in about 30 years from now.
Ok, but really: as wonderful as it is to have thousands of middle-aged women running around campus, they personify all stereotypes and myths about the Relief Society population.
I had been doing a fairly good job of avoiding the crowds, until I decided to cut through the bookstore today. They were everywhere. Women crowded around tables selling everything from missionary care packages to food storage purifiers. The fudge line wrapped around the entire candy counter twice. Confused old ladies didn't know where to go. It was mayhem. On my way past the Cougareat, I noticed long lines for ice cream. Across the way was a huge poster for mint brownies. Way to know your audience, BYU Dining.
The bathrooms right by the terrace were being cleaned. As a weary female custodian escaped to find more paper towel, a rather burly male student employee stood guard in front of the door, next to the "bathroom is closed" sign. The mens room next door had a large "MALE ONLY" sign. I found it quite amusing that the women's bathroom needed a bouncer, until a little old lady came up and tried to sweet talk her way into the bathroom. The nice young man told her that if she could make it, there was another bathroom down the hall, but I was too distracted to see if she made it. I hope you did, dear Mary Lou.
I managed to finally escape the madness by dashing into...Campus Craft and Floral. Weird, that's the place I thought they would all be.
Enjoy L. Tom Perry, ladies, and I hoped you liked your 24 pounds of chocolate covered Cinnamon bears.