anthurium

Apparently, there exists an inverse correlation between the sharpness of my snarkometer and the ambient temperature.

During my ride home from work today, I spotted two men in suits.

I looked at them a little more closely, wondering why they were dressed so formally in this heat. As soon as I figured it out (teh Mormoms, duh) I accidentally made eye contact with one of them.

He flashed me a grin and stepped closer to the curb.

“Greetings, Ma’am! Have you ever talked about the word of God with a missionary such as myself?”

Dude. I was ON A BIKE. Seriously?

Granted, I wasn’t riding all that fast, since I was on a mountain bike going uphill with a heavy-ass backpack full of groceries.

Still.

I snickered and hollered, “I’m kind of busy going this way!”

Did he seriously expect that I had never heard of his particularly illogical brand of Christianity? As a matter of fact, I had. Quite recently, the Mormon church effectively facilitated a giant step backward for gay rights in the state where I’m looking to move. Was that why the LDS Church chose to position missionaries in the gayest part of town?

Did he really think that I would pull my bike over to listen to his bullshit, even if I was interested? What’s next, drive-by proselytizing?

I’m kicking myself now for missing an opportunity to mock hapless Christians. I should’ve asked him if he’s ever met a homosexual missionary such as myself? I can’t help but wonder, just how far were they willing to go to score brownie points for Joseph Smith? Was second base out of the question? If he and his “friend” would make out in front of me, I’d gladly put up with their godbaggery for awhile. Heck, I’d even read the book of Mormon.

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