An encounter with the God Squad

Man, I did something stereotypical today.

First, some background:

I was working a late shift today - 1530 to 0000 - and so I wanted to get a nice lay in. We got to bed around 0400 and anticipated a sleeping until around 1300.

This, it turned out, was not to be.

First, I had to rouse myself to answer the bellow of nature around 0930. Having done so, I climbed back into bed, intent on nothing more than snuggling up to the eminently snuggleable Mrs Doombreed and drifting back to sleep.

Then, just as I was crossing the bliss zone between awake and asleep, the 'phone rang. Awake again. Screw it, let the machine get it.

But then, the proverbial straw. Just as I was entering the bliss zone again, some git knocked on the door.

And we have no answering machine for the door.

Oh, but wait for the cherry (sorry about the mixed metaphor) on the cake. At the door, I discovered after struggling into clothes, was a pair of god-botherers from a local Baptist Church.

Now, I don't remember everything said. I do remember cutting off their spiel by telling them that I'm an atheist. I do remember that naive shocked look on the one guy's face as he said, incredulity in his voice, "you are?"

I also remember mentally daring them to start on me. Shit, I've got wide experience in handling fundies who think they can talk me out of my atheism, as if I've just been sitting around waiting for their specific input before casting reason to the wind and running to a church just as fast as my legs will carry me.

But I didn't want to get into all that garbage at that time, not because I was too tired to give a good account - even half asleep I'd bury them on that topic - but because I wanted to get back to Mrs Doombreed before sleep fled entirely. I also didn't want to have to get violent. Disposing of the bodies is such a chore, especially with the dumpster (see, I'm picking up Yank words) out back full up. I could buy a shovel and dig a hole, but who's got the time for that*?

Anyway, I informed them I'd been roused from the bosom of a wonderful sleep (not to mention, the bosom of a wonderful woman) and this really wasn't a good time for me, followed by me closing the door.

Later, after popping out to get the 'paper (Newspapers, in America, really are left on the doorstep, just like in the movies and on TV), I found they'd left one of their little pamphlets stuck in the doorframe, presumably as some form of silent rebuke, or even, perhaps, in the forlorn hope that I'd read it and immediately realise the error of my ways.

So there you have it. There's two more Christians who've had the stereotype of the grumpy atheist reinforced for them.

Ho-hum. I almost wish I cared.

*For those with no sense of humour: This is sarcasm! I wouldn't really kill Christians just for knocking on my door. Too often**.

**This is also sarcasm, in case you were wondering.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

"I almost wish I cared."

You cared enough to write a novel about it.