LONG TITLE: The Post in which I Offend Utah'ns, Exasperate Missionary Moms, and Possibly Earn a Talking-To From My Father-in-Law.
December 31, 2008
There's a set of Mormon missionaries that live a couple of blocks away from our house, so we end up seeing them a lot. Whenever they're cold, hungry, or really have to poop they always seem to find their way to the Lawson house. And conveniently enough, they usually come by when my favorite reality t.v. show is on.
I'm like, "Hey guys, wanna watch Mama's Boys with me?"
And they're like, "Sorry we're not allowed to watch t.v."
So I'm like, "Get out."
And they giggle.
So I'm all, "No. Seriously. Get out."
And they giggle some more.
These nineteen-year-old boys I tell ya, they're not very responsive to subtle hinting--or blatant insults for that matter.
Yesterday, one of the missionaries (or Elders, as we like to call them) was transferred to a different area in the mission, and consequently, a new Elder moved in--and by new, I mean really, really new.
As in this guy just got off the airplane from Salt Lake City yesterday.
Sucker.
This kid, bless is soul, is just about as "Utah Mormon" as it gets--spiked up hair, huge cheesy grin, and I kid you not, he offered a double thumbs-up when I was talking about a co-worker and used the word "Republican."
He was like, "Sweet. Republicans. Are you guys Republicans?"
Jared nodded in the affirmative, swung his head to meet my gaze and offered the classic "And You?" kind of look. Then we both broke out into a snorting fit of laughter, because hot dog, I am most certainly not a Republican. I'm an Independant.
But let's just say that I'm exceedingly jealous of Barack Obama's seamstress. That lucky woman gets to wrap a tape measure around the President Elect's very upper thigh region every time he buys a new suit. When she mysteriously dies from a poisoned cocktail I will absolutely apply for her job. And dodge the FBI.
The new missionary tried his very best to make it appear as though he wasn't feeling anxious. He even went so far as to say, "Nope I'm not nervous to be on my mission at all." Lucky for me, I could see right through his act--that young man wanted to sh** a brick, right there on my kitchen bar stool. Seriously folks, I could see that he was fighting the urge.
This kid's sphincter was hanging by a thread.
As the conversation awkwardly rolled on--and I returned a few emails for work--Elder NewGuy turned toward Jared, looked him in the eye, and asked, "So. What do you do for work?"
"I'm a chiropractor."
"Oh, that's good," he coolly replied. Then, while he maintained eye contact with my husband, Elder NewGuy pointed his finger in my direction and said, "So she does nothing?"
Not So Sister Lawson, what do you do? Or So Brother Lawson, does your wife work?
He assumed that SHE (me) DOES NOTHING!
Two Problems Here:
1) This kid had the nerve to refer to me as "she" while I was sitting four feet away.
2) We were gathered around a table that was topped with finger paintings--obviously not my homemade handiwork. They happened to belong to the child who was sleeping upstairs. The child who knows all of his letters, can count to thirty, and is more than happy to fart on command.
Obviously, I don't do nothing.
On top of that, I have quite a few letters after my name, and a career to boot. While I rarely discuss my work on this blog, I will mention one thing--my job title is Executive Director. And my flexible, part-time schedule? It's strictly due to my awesomeness.
The room fell completely silent as I looked up from my laptop screen and locked eyes with this greenie missionary--who, I would gather from the thoughtfulness of that comment, was far more nervous than he actually let on.
"You know Elder," I calmly said, "you should realize that you're not in Utah anymore. If I were you, I'd never talk to a New England woman like that ever again. Ever. Again."
And then, I'm pretty sure his sphincter actually did let go.
So welcome to New England, young man! Welcome to New England.
It's gonna be a good two years...
37 comments:
Sounds like you want to send him out on that thin ice!
This post made me laugh out loud.
I think you need to be eating bon-bons and filing you nails the next time he shows up.
Well done!
Seriously, I don't remember how I found your blog, but you are hilarious and I love it. Thanks for the great posts. P.S. That's what we mormons send out as our reps - 19 year olds with no internal filters.
I love this story.
Ooooh, can we prank call him? If phones aren't allowed, I'll settle for ding-dong-ditch.
Way to take down that Mormon elder! I daresay you have proved yourself ready to take on Teh Most Dangerous Game of All:
The Amish.
They're like Mormons. With attitude.
I has a job with a really flexible schedule once. I got fired for my awesomeness. Of course they claimed it was because my schedule wasn't supposed to be flexible, and could I please shower every once in awhile, yada yada ... I just stopped listening. Then they fired me for my awesomeness. And I just called them a bunch of dirty, stinkin' Amish Mormons and walked straight out of that McDonald's and never went back, except for the ocassional McMuffin and Happy Meal or to use the rest room.
True story.
I'm still awesome, btw.
As are you. Funny story, sister!
LOL Grandma read my mind... you should have told him there's a lake with his name on it.
Way to initiate the new Elder. Someone had to do it.
Utah mormon Mom here....will be sending out 2 boys in a few years...completely not offended...in fact, I nearly stood up off my computer chair to give you a standing round of applause!
Great post!
Oh, the things kids say...DUH?? Was he born an idiot or did he learn it somewhere?
Anyway...a few weeks ago I was watching the Steelers/Dallas football game (on a Sunday, of course) and the missionaries showed up. It was the 4th quarter, the game was close and my team (the wonderful Steelers) were behind. I refused to let them in and made Tim go out on the porch and talk to them. I wasn't missing my game for nothing. Does that mean I'm going to hell? (It was a very exciting finish with my team winning. Poor Tim missed the whole thing.)
Amy, I have two things to say...
ONE: Get Tivo, or DVR, you will FOREVER thank me. (Oh, and can you please tell me how Momma's Boys ended because my DVR got cut off b/c I was trying to tape an episode of "The City".
TWO: I am CERTAIN Jared was JUST AS BIG as an idiot if/when he was on a mission at 19. I GUAR UN TEE it.
HILARIOIUS! Thanks for the laugh and for telling him exactly what he needed to know..not a bright 19 year old is he?!
Ah, another snort-fest while reading your blog. I only wish I'd waited until my stitches on my tummy healed before I read this post!
hee hee! I bet he hides out in his house for the next two years after that initiation. :-) Poor kid.
Good.For.You. He needs to learn that lesson at some point. Might as well be from you. Sounds like he has a LOT of growing up to do. You're not really going to get a talking to, are you?
I wish I didn't laugh at that because my abs hurt from the silly gym - but that was AWESOME!
I'm with you, Amy! I should post some of my own stories. Yours brings back memories. Aww...thanks!
Happy New Year to everyone who reads this blog!!!!
Hey, you helped him grow toward adulthood. He should be grateful.
Me, I hafta say, snicker
I think I was at this kids farewell - you know - the one that went an hour over while he tried to put a few intelligible sentences together. And kept flashing a hang ten sign to his buddies in the back (who all also had spiked hair, baggy bum pants, and hemp/pooka shell necklaces. I'm pretty sure there side-cocked baseball hats were in their trucks).
Hilarious. I'm still trying to train them to not show up uninvited/ unannounced. Any key phrases that work for you are always appreciated.
His future wife thanks you!
oh no he didn't!
Not that you SHOULD, but I bet if you posted a picture of him, at least 3 of your readers would know him! heh heh...
I agree it would be easy to take offense. And yes, young missionaries are naive and the world (or you) will slap them will reality. But so are most people I suppose in some way - like baggy-bottom jeans, yeah . . . and, uh, I don't believe I've seen spikey hair on a Utah boy since the 90's. Oh, and Utah women, I'm sure they do something.
I once saw a chicken in blue
That shat-ed in various hues.
One was red,
And landed dead,
Upon his hostesses shoe.
I hope that greenie went home and wrote about you in his missionary journal...LOL
Good for you for saying something, but for the record, us CA-transported -to-Utah women don't like to be talked to like that either. :)
His mom is just a failure, and apparently she does nothing. *wink*
You're my hero. Seriously.
Priceless!
"These nineteen-year-old boys I tell ya, they're not very responsive to subtle hinting
Tell me about it ;)
Way to go, Amy!
I can't even imagine what would happen to him if he came upon a female New England democrat.
*shudder*
No way. What do these parents teach their boys?!? I don't think they should talk like that to any woman. There was a missionary here who was the most ethnocentric person I've ever met. How awful that Germans who already have a view of Americans as stuck-up were finding out about the church from someone who was very willing to put down their country in favor of his own.
Four-and-a-half years in hell--I mean Utah. I totally know what you mean.
You should have looked at him and said, with attitude, "No, actually, I blog." You would have gotten him with that.
You should ask January how she likes our elders right now. ;-D
wow, what a story. Loved it.
You, madam, are made of awesome.
What was the elders name? I bet I know him.
I cannot stop laughing at your posts. My poor husband can't even hear his Star Trek episodes due to my endless laughter...at this and just about every other post of yours that I've read so far.
"because hot dog, I am most certainly not a Republican. I'm an Independant."
Glad to meet another independent Mormon. I love the way you think too.
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