I stopped by my friend Ben's house on my way home this afternoon. He was sitting out on his porch and I spotted his hair from the street, yes I was surprised by the volume of it myself. So I parked and walked back to say hi and found him exceedingly happy that I was not an old person coming to bother him. Apparently he is a type of elderly magnet when he is sick, causing those of graduated years to come over and share the same story that they told him the last time he was sick. Too bad none of the stories are in the awesome vein of Princess Bride. We spent a good portion of our time chatting and having many a good laugh. We have essentially the same taste in jokes and he can handle my more macabre humour admirably.
We finished the get together by hunting a squirrel that has been irritating his mother for the past few years. I walked out into her garden and slowly herded it towards and partially up the tree trunk. Then... THWACK! Ben launched one of his heavy boots at the squirrel. Missed... but it was all in good fun. I retrieved his shoe and when I turned to hand it back to him I almost collapsed in laughter. If I could only express how incredibly crazy he looked standing on his porch in his skinny ripped sweatpants, tee-shirt and massive hair that could have made him Wolverine's nephew.
I was still laughing when I spotted some Mormon girls heading across the street to us. I pointed them out and he made a break for the door. I ushered him into his house and told him to go rest. "I'll take care of the mormons."
And this is where I meet two nice girls. I think their names were Sister Darke and Sister Henderson, but I can't be sure about the latter name. Anyways I found out a bit about their lives and where they had been. I wonder if there are any limits to what they can tell people. Can they ever tell someone their first name? We got off to a good start with me sharing the story of our epic hunting that had taken place moments ago. This progressed into the possibilty of a holiday of squirrel hunting, maybe joined to groundhog day? Then the speculation on what seeing or not seeing the shadow really means to Canada as it is always bitterly cold. Turns out they have just been in town for a month each but have experienced our winters elsewhere. North Carolina and Utah... oh yeah -50 must have been great for them. I had a pleasant time and found chatting with them was less question heavy than it has been with other mormons I've met. I now have some mormon lingo and can get them to have some fun with a story of mishearing godhead as goat's head.
They were a good team and seemed like they got along nicely. We talked propaganda, city laws and general rules. I always feel bad for missionaries just trying to go around. So you don't believe them and don't want to listen, so what? Just treat them like human beings and you'll have a good time. After a half hour talk I walked with them to the end of the block and sent them on their way. Maybe I'll see them again when I can use their first names... that whole thing of taking on the name of sister must really mess with their heads.
I called Ben to let him know that his house and even his block were clear. He was surprised at the length I talked to them. I explained that while I might have liked them as people and probably would have talked to them regardless, the more time they spend with me the less time they have on converting those more susceptible. But even with that as a motivation I usually just enjoy mormon discussions in the end, I can be incredibly frank because they're a stranger who wants to talk. Essentially I'm always looking forward to my next chance to chat and ask them questions... when I'm not in a rush for class. Ben gave me a good one for next time, do they pay for their tour here or is it paid for them? I'll let you know the next time they want to stop and talk.