Work was uneventfully crap today, so the real prize o' Tuesday came post work as I meandered toward Harvard Square to spend a rainy hour before meeting with some of my peeps for dinner. What do I meet as I saunter through Cambridge Commons but two college boys dressed in suits! I'm not sure whether it's a regional thing of where I'm from (i.e. sunny places) or if my parents taught it to me, but Liz once told me that I have an uncommon way of paying attention to people on the street. She's from New York so, though she's an awesomely nice person, she tends to blow by people in an effort to not interact with the crazies. I, on the other hand, lend my cell phone to strangers, let homeless kiss me on the cheek (just that once though), and have conversations with haggard men on the T with a guitar saying stuff like, "If someone's not my friend, I fuck them up!!" That was good times. So when two nicely dressed young men come up to me and catch my eye, I then remove my headphones to see what they're trying to sell me. This time, Mormonism.
I have a thing about proselytizing. It kinda pisses me off. My personal beliefs on religion are somewhat complicated and I usually don't care to explain them to people whom I'm not friends with. That notwithstanding, I just can't be mean to Mormons. I'm always afraid they'll cry or something. Thus, it was my own conscience that coerced me into listening to the story of Joseph Smith. I even tried to stave off their excitement, due to the fact that I had not automatically ignored them, by saying both that I have Mormon friends (read: mistake - all Mormons know each other and now they're going to talk to the Mormons I do know and say that their bestest friend in the whole world was spoken to today - that could be awkward if I, you know, ever see them again) and that I am Southern Baptist. Southern Baptists, as a rule, scare the pants off of most other religions. I should know, my mother is Southern Baptist and went to church every single day in her youth. This did not faze my new friends in the least. At any rate, after a full explanation of Utah and it's many exciting Mormon features, I was offered a *free* Bible of the Church of Latter-day Saints, which I politely declined with a "I'll stick with what I've got, thanks" and received a Mormon business card - Joseph Smith rocks the technology. I exaunted with cheerful "Mormonism is so friendly!"
I wish this were my only story today, but it gets "better". By better I mean that I got to meet up with Lola and Stephanie at the Pit in Harvard Square. Stephanie gave us nummy chocolate covered marzipan for Easter and then, joy of joys, my crazy beacon went off again. Some dude came up and asked for 50 cents. I didn't have 50 cents. Even if I did, I wouldn't be giving it to his ghetto ass, I'd be saving that for sweet sweet T tokens. But since Lola and I were protectively placing our nice chocolate in our pockets at the time he said "What are you hiding?" Chocolate, jackass. "Oh! Is there a church giving it out or something?" After ensuring him that Jesus loved no one enough to give out free chocolate, I *gave him my chocolate* to get him the hell away from us. As we quickly left, I saw the chocolate marzipan bunny come flying through the air near us, followed quickly by the crazy man smashing it to pieces on the cold, wet ground. I am never walking near the Pit again. Ever. Lola swears she recognizes him. Lola, you know some f***ed up people.
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3 comments:
of course, i had meant for you and lola both to throw your marzipan chocolate-covered bunnies on the ground and stomp on them. that is after all what you do with marzipan. this story takes on a whole new value in conjunction with the mormons story if we remember what "rabbits" symbolised on tour... i'm just saying!
That "talk-to/smile-at people on the street" thing is definitely a Texas thing. It's like a highly contagious disease of 'happy' down there... You notice people smiling at you randomly as you walk down the street. Passing joggers say, "Good morning!" to you with alarming cheer. Neighbors you don't know wave enthusiastically as you drive past each other in the neighborhood. Consequently, you are trained to return the favor.
It's nice. I think it's because Texans are just friendly in general. Or, it's because everyone knows that everybody else is packin' heat and they don't wanna risk gettin' blatzed by a Texan who's had his "Howdy" go unrecognized one too many times.
Either way. The North could use summa that.
did the mormons have powers? or large talons?
by the way, my thesis has not improved since the last time we talked! yay! also, hi!
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