There are a few different religions I’m aware of that use the door to door approach to share their gospel. Yesterday, I had a very awkwardly funny encounter with two of these people. I’m sure they’re telling this story later too.
As I got home from work, I immediately changed into the ugliest and comfiest outfit I could arrange. See, once a month, my uterus and endometriosis render me slightly more capable than useless. All I wanted to do when I got home was get comfortable and feel better. I grabbed the first pair of shorts I found, which had a few holes in them, a t-shirt about three sizes too big, and had my hair in some crazy bird nest of a style on top of my head. I also had on my knee high sloth socks. I’m painting quite a flattering picture of myself.
I was finally comfortable on my heating pad, and I dozed off for maybe 20 minutes. I must have really needed that power too because I was basically unconscious when the doorbell rang. Startled and dazed, I get up not even thinking about my appearance, and go answer the door.
I open the door to find two young men standing on my front porch, who are immediately blinded by the pure paleness of my liquid paper white legs. One let out a small chuckle, we’re going to say it was because my socks were awesome, but it’s probably because he had never seen legs so white before. Their gaze quickly went from my pasty pale legs, to the big blob of drool that had accumulated on my face during my nap. I noticed them staring, i wiped my face instinctively and felt the blob of drool, which I’m going to refer to as the mark of a good nap.
Apparently, my appearance made me appear to be sick, because they asked me if I was a victim of the flu. As if I hadn’t made the best impression and scarred them for life already, without even thinking I responded with, “No, I don’t get along with my uterus.”
It was somewhat entertaining to watch all of the color drain right out of their faces. Bless their hearts, they didn’t know what to say, and I knew I was just going to keep traumatizing them if we kept lingering in my doorway. This was also the same moment I realized I wasn’t wearing a bra…
By now, all three of us wanted to exit the situation. I’m fairly certain we were all praying that the good Lord would just come back right then and make it stop! I kept trying to hide more and more of myself behind my front door, and they kept backing away. We stared at each other awkwardly for about 15 seconds before they said they would pray I felt better soon and took off to their car.
I don’t think they even visited any other houses in our neighborhood. They were probably worried about retinal damage from staring directly at my legs. But it wasn’t all in vain, all three of us talked to God more in that 5 minutes on my front porch, than we probably had all day. Begging him to get us out of that situation.
It’s a dangerous game knocking on strangers doors. I could be the train wreck opening it!