The doorbell rang. I opened the door and closed it again without talking with the two people at the door. It was another set of religious somethings. I’m not sure what they wanted to tell me but I knew I didn’t want to hear it.

Religious somethings regularly ring my bell. I must be badly in need of being saved because God sure is trying a lot of different approaches. I regularly hear from the Mormons (two nice boys in badly fitting dark suits…they are clean cut enough to look like they could be gay except they don’t dress well enough), the Catholics and the Jehovah’s Witness crew leaves long, handwritten notes in my mailbox. I haven’t been saved yet but they still haven’t given up trying.

This group left propaganda. After they left, I picked it up & glanced at it on the way to the recycle bin. This couple had been from the Catholics. The literature said that I should prepare for the Lord’s coming. It didn’t tell me exactly how to do that. Just below the large "Prepare for the Lord’s Coming" note, was a notice about Bingo. It’s non-smoking now, you know. I don’t see the connection between Wednesday night bingo & the coming of the Lord but maybe that just shows how little I know and why I need to prepare.

G3! I’m preparing for the Lord. He’s gonna want a filled out bingo card when he gets here.

Well, this religious encounter set the tone for the evening. I was meeting some friends at a bar so I set out on foot for that bar. If I’d driven to the bar, I would have had to drive home. That would have meant I couldn’t drink which would defeat the purpose of going to a bar.

To get to the bar, I walked along St. Mary’s street which is not the home of St. Mary’s Church. Instead, St. Mary’s street is the home of St. John the Evanglist Church. St. Mary’s church is in another part of the city entirely. Here, in the outer Mission, we just have the street. And a funeral.

There was a funeral going on at St. John’s that night. In fact, it was a double funeral. Now I’ve heard of double weddings & those are difficult to arrange but a double funeral? Now that takes some planning.

What I found even more curious was the two hearses. One was black. The other was white. Is this any indication of where they are ending up? Maybe the one in the black hearse killed the one in the white hearse? Except hearses are generally black. Maybe this the exception where the good guy doesn’t always wear white.

Well, I pondered this as I stumbled across four (count ‘em, FOUR not two, but four!) Mormon missionaries. Two of them got into a car & drove away. The other two continued walking. I decided to follow them to their lair. Well, at least as long as it took me in the direction of Glen Park Station, the bar.

I followed the Missionaries. They didn’t do anything funny like perform miracles or convert anyone. They were just kinda ordinary kids in ill fitting dark suits. OK, that part is weird. Kids their age don’t generally wear suits.

But then…they started running! Ah…they were trying to catch a bus but they missed it. I guess God didn’t help them that time. Well, they got to stand outside & wait for the next bus. I got to go to Glen Park Station & have a beer.