Classic Post: Messing With a Bible Thumper
Originally posted 8-2007
Twenty minutes ago the doorbell rang. This is an unusual occurrence for three P.M. on a Tuesday afternoon.
Whenever the phone rings and the caller is not immediately identifiable, I generally don’t answer. Same with when I receive an unexpected visitor at the house. Most of the time, I don’t even get up to see who it is. They’ll go away eventually.
I was in the office, in the basement of the house, writing a different essay for this site when I heard the doorbell. After automatically dismissing the idea of answering the door, I reconsidered. I decided that it might be worth seeing who was after all, for the off chance that it’s the kid that occasionally mows the grass, since the grass is getting tall and I’d rather not cut the grass myself if I could help it.
I peeked through the leaded-glass window of the front door to see the distorted image of a tall, slender white man beginning to make his way back down the front steps. The lawnmower is a pudgy, 14 year old black kid from the neighborhood. Well, maybe this guy is here to mow the lawn. I decided to answer the door anyway to see what he was selling.
The man was professionally dressed and carrying a clipboard.
Why did I answer the door? I instantly thought to myself.
“Hi, I’m ‘Paul’ from Such and Such Church,” he greeted in an enthusiastic tone with a definitive Australian accent as he made his way back up the steps. He told me the real name of the church, but I wasn’t listening at the time.
The church in question is about a block and a half away from the house.
“We’re just trying to meet with some of the neighborhood residents trying to see how we can better serve the community. Would you mind participating in our survey? I’ll only take a minute or two of your time.”
“OK, but I worship the devil,” I offered matter of factly.
Paul smiled playfully and looked down momentarily as he clicked his pen and clipped a fresh survey to the front of his clipboard.
“You think I am kidding, don’t you?” I said, never breaking eye contact.
“Ohh, people give me all sorts of crazy responses. I’m used to it,” he replied jovially, still looking down at his questionnaire.
“So how long have you lived here?” He read aloud, the smile still evident in his tone.
“We sacrifice goats in the basement and drink the blood.”
Maintaining my stoic facial expression was getting to be more difficult.
“You sacrifice goats and drink the bloooood…” Paul’s smile started to fade into more of a disturbed, serious look.
“Yes we do. You’re welcome to join us. We’re always looking for new members.”
“Ummm, thats ok. I don’t have much of a taste for goat’s blood.” Any hint of amusement in Paul’s demeanor was long gone. He began to back away slowly toward the steps.
“Well, we mix it with Vodka. Takes the edge off. It’s kind of like an authentic Bloody Mary.” I had to suck my cheeks in slightly and bite hard into the insides to maintain my composure.
“We have eight members. We meet at midnight every Saturday. You should come.”
“What, if anything would you like to see the Church do in the community?” He continued his survey like a good soldier of God, reading nervously from the paperwork.
“Can we use your basement once a week?” I asked enthusiastically.
This was met with a look of genuine terror. I smiled brightly, and informed him that we were atheists (the truth, well at least I am). I told him that I don’t have a problem with the Church, it’s just not for me.
“It’s just not for you. Well, I can respect that.” Apparently being an atheist is much less frowned upon than being a goat murderer.
“You mean… you don’t really sacrifice goats?” He asked cautiously, the relief and hopefulness in his voice very evident.
“No, it’s against city ordinance.” I said with a sinister grin.
Paul smiled and we finished his survey. He then shook my hand and left abruptly.
Reader Comments
This guy sounds like one of the nicest “Bible Thumpers” I’ve ever heard of, and you were still a jerk to him? Why is this on StumbleUpon? Thumbs down. Also, get a real job. One that contributes to society. Regular people tell stupid stories in addition to their paying jobs.
Well, it must be on SU because someone liked it? Isn’t that how it works?
Can’t please ‘em all I guess…