must be catholic guilt

A few moments ago, amidst this Southern California storm, I heard the sound of the doorbell. Cairo started barking, ready to pounce on whoever was on the otherside of the door. I opened the door to find two young men in black pants and black puffy coats. They couldn't have been over the age of 17.

"Hi", they said. "We're missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter Day Saints".

Ah, fuck. Mormons!

"Oh, I'm not interested", I snapped.

"Interested in what?", said the geeky looking white dude on the right looking awfully confused at my initial statement.

"Whatever you're trying to sell", I replied.

Then I abruptly shut the door.

I returned to my task at hand, which was cleaning out some cabinets in my den bookshelf. But I couldn't focus. I was continually reminded of the look on the poor dude's face when I said "I'm not interested". It's as if I shoved a wooden stake into his heart. His smile turned to bewilderment. He was shocked beyond belief.

Here were these two teenage boys, spending a rainy evening going door to door trying to spread their "word". I could have been more polite or at least humored them with a few minutes of empty babbling conversation. But no, I shut the door in their face and sent them next door. Oh, well...