Jehovas Witness Protection Program
I was goofing off on the computer today, as usual, No I wasn't downloading porn (I have enough of that already), when a ring startled me. I don't believe I've heard the doorbell ring in years. To be honest I wasn't sure we had one. Everyone either knocks or just comes in anyway. So I answer the door and before me are two rather large ladies and their two small-and adorable boys, all dressed up in suit jackets and knickerbocker-shorts.
"Can I help you, ma'am," I ask, politely.
"Are you happy," she replies.
"Am I happy? That's a hell of a question," I ask myself. I mean I was happy like a minute ago. Well, maybe more like contented but now I'm kind of apathetic heading on my way towards kind of annoyed and falling fast. "Yes, I'm happy," I tell her, noticing she's wearing her Sunday-best sun-dress.
"Are you really happy," she asks, persisting like the future of man kind depends on it, and starting to open a digest-sized pamphlet filled with pictures.
"Yes," I snap back, "I'm perfectly happy, couldn't be better." At this point I'm glad I only slightly opened the door and have exposed no hands on which she could place said pamphlets. Ordinarily, under these circumstances, were it any other thing she was offering I'd have taken it to be done with her, but I almost feel in that situation I'm cheating God himself and therefore it's better to not accept. I have a strange respect for God many people don't know about. I don't call it strange in the sense that it's strange to believe in a higher power, but strange in that I feel compelled to say Hail Mary's and Our Fathers as I pass cemeteries, even ones I pass everyday, and that if I throw out some paper with religious things written on it I'm somehow sinning.
"And your friends?" In my mind it's taunting, though the rational part of me know she's just trying their "hard sell" approach.
"What of them," I inquire. Usually I'd have had some witty, snappy comebacks here, but I was a little taken aback the God aspect and also because in the three years I've lived in this house, and the 5 years I've been visiting before that I'd never even HEARD of witnesses on the block. I was pretty sure it had some kind of Jehovah's Witness Protection Program on it or something.
"Do you like your friends?"
"I like them just fine," I feel the need to defend my friendship-bonds.
At this point I believe the leader got the message and I stood in the doorway watching as they slowly turned around, bibles in hand and headed down the driveway towards the next house. I kind of felt a little sadness at that moment. Sure I stood my ground, but they were only trying to save my soul. I should have thanked them, but I'm not sure they'd have been up to the task, this one's going to take ALOT of work.
"Can I help you, ma'am," I ask, politely.
"Are you happy," she replies.
"Am I happy? That's a hell of a question," I ask myself. I mean I was happy like a minute ago. Well, maybe more like contented but now I'm kind of apathetic heading on my way towards kind of annoyed and falling fast. "Yes, I'm happy," I tell her, noticing she's wearing her Sunday-best sun-dress.
"Are you really happy," she asks, persisting like the future of man kind depends on it, and starting to open a digest-sized pamphlet filled with pictures.
"Yes," I snap back, "I'm perfectly happy, couldn't be better." At this point I'm glad I only slightly opened the door and have exposed no hands on which she could place said pamphlets. Ordinarily, under these circumstances, were it any other thing she was offering I'd have taken it to be done with her, but I almost feel in that situation I'm cheating God himself and therefore it's better to not accept. I have a strange respect for God many people don't know about. I don't call it strange in the sense that it's strange to believe in a higher power, but strange in that I feel compelled to say Hail Mary's and Our Fathers as I pass cemeteries, even ones I pass everyday, and that if I throw out some paper with religious things written on it I'm somehow sinning.
"And your friends?" In my mind it's taunting, though the rational part of me know she's just trying their "hard sell" approach.
"What of them," I inquire. Usually I'd have had some witty, snappy comebacks here, but I was a little taken aback the God aspect and also because in the three years I've lived in this house, and the 5 years I've been visiting before that I'd never even HEARD of witnesses on the block. I was pretty sure it had some kind of Jehovah's Witness Protection Program on it or something.
"Do you like your friends?"
"I like them just fine," I feel the need to defend my friendship-bonds.
At this point I believe the leader got the message and I stood in the doorway watching as they slowly turned around, bibles in hand and headed down the driveway towards the next house. I kind of felt a little sadness at that moment. Sure I stood my ground, but they were only trying to save my soul. I should have thanked them, but I'm not sure they'd have been up to the task, this one's going to take ALOT of work.