Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Oh dear

I made the mistake of sitting next to a Mormon missionary on the bus tonight. In my defense, he didn't look like a traditional Mormon missionary. He was African-American, though he was an attractive young guy in a suit, and they're always Mormon missionaries. Especially when they have nametags that reads, "Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints," but somehow I saw that too late.

He asked me if I'd had a long day. I said no. He asked me if I'd had a good day. I said yes. He asked why it was good. I said why not. He asked my name but instead I just looked at his nametag and asked if he was a Mormon missionary. He said yes.

He asked if I'd talked to other Mormon missionaries in the past. I said oh yes, on the subway, on the bus, on the street. He said, maybe God is trying to tell you something. He offered me a card with a link to a free DVD about his church, but I declined. I told him my friend Julie is a Mormon, so I already know some stuff about his church. (I didn't mention that Julie is an ex-Mormon. Damn I lied to a Mormon. Does that mean I'm going to heck? Maybe I should have taken his card after all.)

Anyways, I told him I was a stand-up comic, then I wrote down Bengt Washburn's name for him and told him to look him up.

Incidentally, why is it the Mormons send out such cute, young boys to convert you? They are clearly preying on the vulnerabilities of desperate middle-aged women like me. So unfair.

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