Separation of Church and the #8

Now, I'm usually all for religious tolerance. But if my commute keeps getting used as a battlefield in a Crusade, I'm going to go all Saladin on its ass.

The bus is loud and annoying as it is. There is the woman (I'm sure I've mentioned her) who talks on her cell phone about how great the Atkins diet is. Every single day.

Yeah, I can have all the bacon I want....yeah....no, really....and cheese....yeah, and hamburger...

How many friends can this woman have that can stand to listen to this list of saturated fat every day???

There's the guy who sings opera. Loudly.

There's the usual assortment of crazy people, normal people, arguing couples, chatting couples, sad babies, happy babies--in short, just general noise. That's just how it is.

BUT...the missionaries? MUST. BE. STOPPED.

Seriously, I have nothing against Mormonism. Well, except for the super-offensive posthumous baptizing of Shoa victims. I do have that against the Church as an institution, I suppose, but nothing against individual Mormons. Most Mormons I know are kind, tolerant, and interesting.

But I very very much have something against being proselytized every day on my commute.

My favorite was the time the missionary woman sat down next to me, nudged my open book, and said without a trace of irony: "It's wonderful how some people can read on the bus."

It was wonderful, my dear. It was.

Here's my question: how much do you have to suck at missionary school that they send you to Boston??? It's like the assignment for people who couldn't learn another language or evince any kind of cultural sensitivity?

It's this latter point that pushed me over the edge today.

There's a homeless guy who rides my bus. Nice enough guy. Smells bad, but I'm sure I would, too, if I were homeless. So this missionary guy starts talking to him. The homeless guy has the best missionary shut-down line I've ever heard:

Oh yeah. My family's Mormon. My brother's a good Mormon. He got a draft deferral to go on his mission. I got sent Vietnam.

Ouch. But the missionary guy didn't get the sarcasm, I guess. Because he said--I am not making this up--he said: "Oh, Asia. I've always wanted to go to China."

What the hell?

But it got worse. The missionary guy then asked the homeless guy--I could NOT make this up--he asked him: "Where's your favorite place to eat in Cambridge?"

Um, the guy's homeless. Homeless. He's not exactly working his way through Zagat's.

I wouldn't mind the conversion attempts on the bus if the people who are supposed to be my spiritual superiors had anything like a damn clue.

Sheesh.