Seven o’ clock on a Tuesday and I hear a knock on my door. I have one bright pink sock and one neon sock showing and my uniform is still on. My hair is various stages of disarray. What compelled me to answer the door in that state? I may never know.
When I answered the door I was greeted by two men with thick European accents. As any young woman would be, I was obviously sucked in. They asked me if I had any projects that they could help me with and gestured to my side walk (which hasn’t been shoveled once this year). While this may sound like the beginning of a cheaply done porno, this is how my first experience with Mormon missionaries started off.
I assured them I was fully capable of shoveling my own sidewalk, but thank you kindly for asking. I didn’t realize they were missionaries until we started talking more. As many of you know, God and I aren’t really on speaking terms. I’m starting to take slow steps back to my faith, but I needed a break to figure some things out. I have always been very interested in hearing people talk about religion. There are so many different ways to be religious and so many different ways people believe in the word.
When they asked if they could come back at another time and talk more, I didn’t think anything of it. I was looking forward to hearing more about them and their perspective on religion. However, when the appointment finally came up, I called to reschedule. And then I rescheduled the rescheduled date. And then, when I tried to reschedule the already rescheduled date, they didn’t answer.
I realized this was a trick. A classic recruiter trick (essentially, that’s what these missionaries do… they recruit). They would pretend to not receive my phone call and show up as planned at 8:00 pm. Classic.
At 7:45 (because I’m sure they would arrive a little early), I made sure all of the lights in the house were off and then I retreated upstairs to my bedroom. I staged a stake out and waited for their arrival. They arrived, as anticipated, at 7:50. I had assumed that they would knock, think I wasn’t home and then leave. Instead they stayed outside, waiting patiently, for AN HOUR! An hour. A whole 60 minutes. It seems they were intent on staking out my house as I was staking out them. Through a small crack in my blinds, I watched in agony. Wishing them away and then realizing a prayer would be the best defense against them.
They left at 8:53. I have since received 6 phone calls. I continue to have these strange things I get involved in (cue me in 12th grade and the money order scheme).
