The Witnesses At My Door

So Saturday was the first day of Memorial Day weekend. I had things to do, but I needed to relax as well. So I rolled out of bed later in the morning and threw on some sweats. First things first... laundry. I threw my stuff into a laundry basket and headed out the door (the laundry room for the apartment is on the opposite side of the complex and you have to go outside to get to it). When I opened my door, two people were standing in front of it, clearly startled and clearly getting ready to knock on my door. One was a tall older guy, and the other was a kid... probably about 10 years old or so. Both were dressed in suits. Both were holding briefcases and Bibles. One was holding copies of Watch Tower and Awake magazines. Jehovah's Witness was knocking at my door. What a way to start the day out.

Before I go further, I should make it clear that I grew up in a pretty Christian house. My dad was Episcopalian and my mom was Baptist (don't ask... I don't know how they got along for so long either). My dad didn't care for Witnesses when they knocked at the door... if anything, he'd start a lively debate and save the rest of the neighborhood from them by taking their time. My mom, however, was the one who would see them coming from a mile away and would pick them off from her bedroom window if she had a rifle. Depending on my mood, I could go either way. Anyway, the idea is that neither of them appreciated them and had different approaches to dealing with them.

So it's crystal clear that the kid is so nervous, he was about to sh*t his pants. Both guys smile at me, and the kid hands me a copy of Awake magazine. He said that he wants to read a quote from the Bible. He's fumbling through the Bible trying to find this verse. The old guy doesn't help him at all. He's just standing there. And I'm holding my laundry, trying to be patient. So after what seemed like an eternity, I put my laundry basket down and went to grab something in my living room. When I got back, he found his verse (2 Timothy 3 if you're interested). He read the verse. Then he said that since the last days may be coming, it would benefit me to read the magazine and the Bible.

Now I'm torn. On one hand, I think it's good for a person to have to cold-talk to people like that. It's a good way to learn how to market yourself and how to repress those nervous feelings. On the other hand, I just wanted him to get out of my d*mn face. I had things to do.

When he finished with what he was saying, I politely told the kid that I'm a person finding my way as well, and even though I didn't agree with what he was saying, I appreciated what he was doing. And since I appreciated what he was doing, I was going to give him one of my favorite bookmarks so he doesn't have to fumble to find his verse again. Then I told him that I had things to do, and thanks for stopping by.

The kid has this HUGE beaming smile, while the old guy was pissed. I don't know if he was mad that I could've corrupted the kid, or that I gave him something that the kid appreciated. Whatever. He needed to lighten up.

So the two walked off and I went to do laundry. While I was walking over there, I noticed that every stairwell and walkway through the complex had a couple people wearing identical suits and carrying identical briefcases and Bibles. It irritated me a little more, and I almost wanted to go and take my bookmark back. I didn't, but I wanted to. Maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Who knows.

It was still a good weekend anyway. Back to the real world.