I love my job. But man sometimes people ask the weirdest questions.
See the original post here.
1. Speaking of your town, where is it?
Ignoring the fact that you just asked me a bunch of detailed questions about the area and surrounding towns and managed to find our phone number all by yourself?
GOOGLE IS YOUR FRIEND.
2. How can I set up recycling pickup in [nearby town]?
I don’t live there. Ask someone else.
3. How long would it take me to walk to [a place that’s an hour and a half away by car]?
Um, how fast do you walk?
4. Where are all your fast food restaurants?
Incidentally, a few other people were milling about in the lobby, heard this question, asked me about restaurants, and specified that they didn’t want to eat fast food.
You offend no only me, but everyone standing around, sir.
5. How do I rent an apartment?
Ask your mother.
In no particular order.
1. “Can you tell me how big your black fly population is going to be in mid-July?”
This was a call-in from a woman who couldn’t decide what weekend she wanted to come camping. Unfortunately, I hadn’t yet conferred with the black fly government about what their plans were for repopulation.
2. “Would you happen to know of any abandoned buildings with a healthy population of dandelions in the foreground around here?”
“Sir, dandelions are wild. I cannot confirm a ‘healthy population’ of them anywhere.”
3. “What’s the street address for that waterfall? I’d like to plug it into my GPS.”
Waterfalls don’t get mail. They can’t pay taxes. They do not have street addresses.
4. “Are there any Amish communities we could tour nearby?”
They aren’t zoo animals. Leave the Amish alone.
5.”Have you ever eaten at the [local soup kitchen]? I’m going there for dinner tonight, care to join me?”
And points to the least impressive first date goes to… oh wait, no, we already covered that.
I had my first pleasant interaction with a Jehovah’s Witness the other day at the Visitor’s Centre.
Now, I know that most people’s first reaction to a missionary looks something that the following scene from Airplane:
But hark ye well to my tale, internet, because this is the story of The Vacationing Jehovah’s Witnesses.
And let it be a message to you all.
I work at the local visitor’s centre in Location Where I Live, State. Essentially, my job entails answering visitor’s questions about the area, things to do, cuisine, nearby counties, booking hotel rooms, events, and the like. We have a lovely selection of brochures to peruse.
Anyhow, a couple came in a few days ago looking for things to do within the next few days. The forecast said rain, so they were interested in, y’know, not being outside. Perhaps a nice historical landmark or a house tour or a museum. Something of that nature.
We got to chitchatting, as you do, and it came to light that they were volunteers.
“Volunteers?” says I, “do tell!”
“Jehovah’s Witnesses”, the lady admits, reluctantly, and then she waits.
Now I admit, I am not a Jehovah’s Witness. I have no idea what they stand for. I don’t really understand anything about them.
This is what I know about Jehovah’s Witnesses:
They go around and knock on people’s doors. And people find that really annoying.
Okay, I looked it up. Jehovah’s Witnesses go around and tell people that the world is going to end soon and that they should maybe prepare for that. Which, quite honestly, knowing that they believe that the world’s time is running out, is from their point of view a really nice thing to do. If I knew the world was ending next week, the last thing I’d want to do is go around and have people slam their doors in my face.
Anyways, I may not know much about missionaries, but I do know the face of someone who expects to be made fun of when I see it, and this poor woman was expecting to get harassed.
So I said, “Oh, that’s nice. I find volunteer work to be pretty rewarding.”
And the relief on that couple’s face was heartbreaking.
We chatted for a few more minutes.
They did not tell me that the world was ending.
I did not say anything derogatory about their beliefs.
They went on their merry way.
Now, I don’t know anything about these people and what they say to the homeowners who answer them, but I can tell when someone is used to being put down about their beliefs.
That’s called bullying, folks. This ain’t the playground.
I guess the moral of the story is that we should be a little nicer to Jehovah’s Witnesses, because when they aren’t dressed up and knocking on doors, they’re regular people who go on vacation and enjoy eating Mexican food and like history museums and have a deep conviction that God’s gonna take over the world.