Wednesday, February 22, 2006

The Passion of the Mormon

It was a day like any other that I found myself traveling from one school to the next, for my second class of the day. I rode my motorcycle to the same intersection I always do and waited for the long red light to go away and allow me to continue on. I glanced, unassumingly to my left and noticed a young blonde fellow on a bicycle smiling at me from ear to ear.
“How ya doing?” I said, with a slight nod of my head, signifying that it was more of a greeting than an actual question, as I did not want to get involved in a conversation whilst awaiting a light change.
“ Excellent!” He responded, and right away I knew something was up. Who does that? Who responds “Excellent” when someone asks them how they are doing? A Mormon, that’s who. He proceeded to ask me if I was a teacher and where I was from.
“Yes” and “NS, Canada” were my answers to that, hoping that would be an end to it.
“ A lot of our members are Canadian Teachers!” He went on, still smiling from ear to ear.
Luckily the light turned green. “ See ya later!” I called out over my shoulder as I peeled away from him. I made it about two city blocks before another red light caught me and held me in place. Mere seconds after I arrived my friend on the bicycle pulled up beside me and continued on with his attempt at saving my soul from eternal damnation. He began to ask me if I was familiar with the Church of Jesus Christ and the Later Day Saints. I said I was vaguely aware of such an organization. He began to tell me about a fellow named John and his time in “the Americas”. Green Light, I was gone again, hoping to have seen and heard the last from my new Mormon friend. That was not to be.
The blonde headed Mormon caught up with me again at the next light. I have to admit, I was starting to like this guy. He was red-faced and winded by our third meeting and was catching his breath while trying to convert me. I heard a little more about John and the Indians before I was off again. Yet another red light and the little fella had caught me again. This time he pulled up even more out of breath and barely able to speak. It was all I could stand, I asked him if there was some kind of spiritual commission that he gained from these sorts of things, as he was definitely working his ass off. If he had of been selling stereos instead of eternal salvation I probably would have bought two! I told him to save his breath and his energy, as he was not going to convert me to Mormonism or whatever they are calling it these days. I did tell him that I liked his gumption, and out of all the Mormons I had ever spoken to, he was my favorite. I assured him he did a good job, and if there was ever a chance of converting me, he had the first crack at it. I bid him goodbye and at the next red light I ran it, just to be safe. I don’t think they are allowed to run red lights.

Bye for now,