The Book of Mormon

Sincerest apologies to my loyal readers for my absence in blogdom over the past month- a month and a day, to be exact. However, I am back and refreshed and ready to blog all summer long. I start two new jobs tomorrow, so I'm sure that there will be plenty of good material coming out of both of these endeavors. In the meantime, I should probably address today's seemingly irrelevant post-title.

Last week, I was sitting on my couch eating my new hangover food (Chick Fil-A) and wallowing in self-pity over the enormous amount of alcohol consumed the night before, (and the ensuing stupidity) when I heard a knock at the door.

My heart started racing. First of all; nobody ever comes to my door unless specifically invited (yes, I run a tight ship). I don't like people just "stopping by" for visits unless I have had ample preparation time. Secondly; as a result of watching entirely too much Rescue 911 and America's Most Wanted as a child, I am deathly afraid of intruders. My default position is that I will probably get murdered in my own home, and so every night that I survive I chalk up to good luck and karma.

There were only 2 options in my mind of who could be at the door:
a) a friend or b) a rapist (the more likely choice in my opinion).

I muted the t.v. and tiptoed to the door (never let the assailant know you are home). I peered outside the spyhole, but it was smudged (I have since remedied this problem) and all I could see were two blurred figures. Fuck. Well.... I guess this is as good a day as any to be bound and tortured, I thought. I've already made it through my first year of law school, so if I die today at least I've accomplished something notable. With that thought in mind, I opened the door.

To my relief, standing there were two women. Well, not women exactly, but not girls either. (thank you Britney Spears for clearing up this awkward transition stage). They were in their late 20s, although this is not really relevant.

Both were mildly retarded. One was completely cross eyed. They had the same shoes on. (these were my observations before they even opened their mouths).

They were at my door to sell me the Book of Mormon. The first girl started speaking while the second (cross-eyes) hung back and just STARED with one eye at the other girl, hanging on every word as if she were speaking the word of God himself.

"Do you read the Bible"? she asked.
"Ummm, I mean, I've read it. Like, for school". I looked like a hobo- I was still in my clothes from the night before and my face was covered in makeup. I am a sinner, I thought. I am going to hell.

She proceeded to embark on a 10 minute shtick about the Book of Mormon, which actually would have been interesting, if only she could actually string coherent words together. I don't know what form of mental illness she had (I'm no doctor) and I won't even venture to guess as I don't want to offend anyone, butttttt, I will say that the first thing that popped in my head was Down Syndrome... just saying.
She would say about 5 words then just literally stop and stare at me. It was so unbelievably uncomfortable that I didn't know what to do. Who the hell decided that this would be a good idea- to send two incompetents door to door to sell religious literature??? If I weren't so confused it would have been funny. During one of the many awkward silences, I peered around the door. Is there some sort of supervisor, I wondered?A higher-up in the chain of command? Surely these two didn't come alone. I mean, can they drive even?? I really thought there would be a middle-aged man on the stairs in a cheap suit sporting a mustache. Nothing.

Due to my hangover, much of the conversation has escaped my memory. There is one part that I vividly remember:

Girl: You know, ummm, it took a long time back in the day to spread the word because, umm, it wasn't like Jesus had e-mail or anything.
(Cue chuckle from Googly Eyes) Omg was this scripted??
Girl: He couldn't just ummm, call the apostles on the phone or anything.
Me: Awkward laughter. Noo, I guess that wouldn't um, really work.

What did I get out of this entire exchange: Well, I know that the Book of Mormon was written on either the North or South American Continent and may or may not have been written before the Bible. Beyond that, my knowledge is hazy. It is also to be read in conjunction with the Bible, as more of a supplement, and can be purchased through a 1-800 number. Though I didn't buy the book, I did take a card to appease the women, and after a light tap on the ass to googly eyes, sent them on their way.