Strangers with Pamphlets

I have waited my entire life for a Mormon to knock on my door and hand me a pamphlet. I’ve heard countless stories about this happening to other people and always felt left out and neglected, inevitably causing my abandonment issues. I just want to hear the spiel – that’s it. Sure, I have a lot of burning questions I’d like to ask and I’d want to keep them at my door step longer than necessary, but I mainly just want to hear what they have to say and be invited into their club.

I spent three hours this morning preparing for a run and convincing myself it was a good idea. This is always a long and tedious process. I was in the middle of sitting on my couch perusing the Internet to find the perfect pair of eye shades when my door bell rang. I got up and looked into the mini hole in the door. My heart skipped a beat with excitement and my hangover immediately disappeared. My big day had finally arrived – it appeared that there was a Mormon man at my door.

I opened the door and tried to hide my excitement. Even though I knew he was going to ask me to be in his club, I would pretend to be surprised. After he asked, I would give the same speech I say in the shower when I’m accepting my Emmy.

He had a pamphlet in his hand and handed me one.


This was the pamphlets opening line. Aggressive. But ok yes, I would like to know the truth. I opened the pamphlet and the man asked me if I had ever wondered about any of the questions. My excitement dissipated as soon as I realized this was not a Mormon packet. He was a Jehova’s Witness.

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I indulged the man in conversation even though this was not the club I wanted to be apart of. He told me to pick a question on the pamphlet that I had wondered about. I chose: “What happens to us when we die?” I’m not very religious despite going to Catholic school for nearly half my life, but I had always held onto some hope that good shit would happen to me after I kicked the bucket. Perhaps an alternate universe where Oreos would make me skinny and Channing Tatum was obsessing over ME, rather than the other way around.

The man ignored the fact that he was in a college neighborhood and that there was a high probability of me being a college student. He proceeded to read me the answer on the pamphlet that I had in my hands. He read:

At death, humans cease to exist…”

I figured.

The dead…are conscious of nothing at all,” states Ecclesiastes 9:5. Since the dead cannot know, feel or experience anything, they cannot harm or help the living. -Psalm 146:3,4. “

What. This man is not only not a mormon like I wanted him to be, he’s calmly explaining to me that there will be no Channing Tatum and Oreos when I die. In fact, there will literally be nothing. He doesn’t seem rattled by this idea at all as I press him with questions like, “But are you sure?” and “Really?”

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After reading this section to me, I realize he’s trying to leave me. I linger at the door a little longer, but to my disappointment, he does not ask me to be apart of his club either. It felt like a bad breakup and suddenly I needed ice cream and tissues.

“NO! I will not let them do this to me,” I thought. “I’m too good for them!” I went on a run (that’s an extreme overstatement. I jogged a 12 minute mile) to make myself feel better.

As I was approaching my house on the way back, a miracle happened. The man with the pamphlets was walking toward me. As soon as he recognized me, he turned around and tried to walk back the other way. I heard his internal dialogue from a mile away:

Oh crap. This is so awkward. I just wanted to go back to my car. I wonder if she recognizes me. Of course she does. I should’ve just invited her to our club. She seems so cool and has great hair.”

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I considered running up to him and asking why he didn’t ask me to join, but decided to let him walk the wrong way. For now, I’ll continue to fantasize about an after life where people carry me everywhere and beg me to be in their clubs.


16 thoughts on “Strangers with Pamphlets

  1. You know, I’m a Mormon and served a mission many years ago(in Utah of all places). We have connections you know. If you really want the boys or girls to come to your house (Mormons always come in pairs and have nametags) I could make a few calls. I just don’t want you to feel like you are missing out in life. They might even be nice and ask you to join the club.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I’ve gotten these visits before in my neighborhood as well. I never know what to do when it happens, except be courteous and politely decline. Still, it can be very awkward. Glad that you were able to laugh it off and turn it into an anecdote, though!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I got that fateful knock at my door when I was home from school for Christmas break once. It was really cold outside and, since I was the only one home, I invited the two Mormon guys to come in and warm up in the living room. We had a nice little debate over each others’ beliefs. Eventually we all realized that they weren’t changing my mind about anything and I wasn’t changing theirs either. We all parted on good terms. We still do Christmas cards every year. It’s nice.

    Liked by 1 person

      • Yeah, I should have thought about that back then, too. But I was so excited that they knocked on the door while I was home. They outnumbered me, so it could’ve been dangerous. I feel like I could take on one Mormon missionary, but any more than that is a gamble. And I don’t think they approve of the gambling.

        Liked by 2 people

  4. This happened to me my freshman year in the dorms, except when I was asked “Do you have a moment to speak about Jesus Christ?” I responded with “Sorry… I’m kind of in the middle of watching Netflix…” At least we both probably aren’t invited to the club?

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Here in Puerto Rico I get regular visits from the Jehova’s Witnesses. I chat , they give me the pamphlets. “In Spanish, please, it helps my learning of the language”. They understand.
    I found you by “WordPressing”, a new one for your vocab!
    I am now joining your followers club, can’t wait for the next post.
    Reminds me of Stephen Leacock’s “Frenzied Fiction”. here’s a link – you have been pre-googled!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I don’t think that I can join your club. If I wake up after dying only to have Channing Tatum following me around with a bouquet of oreos I’ll be printing some pamphlets about the after after life. The Hoff now, at least he would be crazily interesting…

    Liked by 1 person

  7. My friend has a hundred questions (at least!) for Mormons, and now that she’s shared them with me I find myself consumed by them as well. Okay, maybe “consumed” is a little strong, it’s probably more like passing thoughts that plague me occasionally. But I’ve ALSO had a Jehovah’s Witness encounter. (Except mine keep coming back every 3 weeks or so, like clockwork.) Visit if you feel like reading the story:

    Liked by 1 person

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