Sometimes in church I find myself thinking, “Wow. I really hope there are no investigators* here today.”
I had this thought yesterday in Sunday School when we had the most disjointed lesson . . . and the poor guy teaching—oh you could tell he was nervous and maybe a little unprepared so I was trying to be nice and supportive, but he pulls out this story about ULTIMATE FIGHTING and this guy with a mohawk and some “paunchy” guy and letmetellyou I don’t know who was dishing out the crazy before the meeting but everyone seemed to be following along with his tie-in to the gospel and the Plan and what have you and I felt like the only one silently screaming, “SERIOUSLY, DUDE?”
Because it didn’t. really. make. sense. and kind of sounded like it was just a ploy to talk about ULTIMATE FIGHTING in church. But let’s face it, who hasn’t tried the old bizarre-metaphor-just-to-mention-a-cool-experience-in-a-lesson? Huh? HUH? That’s what I thought.
I texted my friend in the middle of the story (yeah, I know, FOR SHAME!) with “What the hell is he talking about?” She guffawed a little because apparently you’re not supposed to say swears in church or even type them.
So we finally get to the chapel later and halfway through Testimony Meeting the guy (you know, the Sunday School ULTIMATE FIGHING guy) stands up and walks to the podium. I whisper to my friend, “Remind me later to tell you the crazy story he told in Sunday School.”
Turns out I didn’t need to because blesshislittleheart he gets up and tells THE EXACT SAME STORY in the EXACT SAME WORDS. Oh, but this time with more detail and extra nonsensicalness. I could hardly bear it. I say to my pew-mate, “I want you to stab me. Please. Just make it stop.”
I glanced around to see if maybe everyone was getting the deep doctrinal points found in ULTIMATE FIGHTING and I was just the crazy sinner who was missing the whole thing. Then I saw practically everyone who sat through his lesson listening with a barely-concealed smirk and I was comforted that I was not the crazy one. You have no idea how much reassurance I need on that issue.
Anyway, it was awesome and I’m terribly sad I didn’t tape the whole thing for you folks at home. Here’s a little sampling of what you missed: “And the guy had a good 18 pounds on him and just starts sprinting, ya know. And he was going fast, like how fast can you sprint? Do you know, Brad? Anyway, it was fast and the other guy was cut, I mean seriously, and he had a mohawk** and everything. I bet you’d like a mohawk, huh, Bradley? And I thought for sure it was over because, I mean that guy was a serious fatty.”
This blog post brought to you by the makers of Kim is a Jerk and Makes Fun of People With Abandon and Without Thought of Repercussion
*Did you know we Mormons call non-members who are interested in the church “investigators”? Isn’t that a cool title? What a way to impress the ladies, huh? “Hi. I’m . . . . an investigator.” God help us if we ever need to report a crime. Someone will tell us, “You can go explain everything to the Investigator over there,” and we’ll all go, “Ooh, do you want some pamphlets?”
**Because mohawks are the source of all physical power, don’t ya know?