You guys should see the look of bewildered astonishment on the missionaries faces when I answer in english quickly and shut the door. The astute can see it in their blinking eyes. It's like I'm communicating telepathically and they're caught off guard by me being inside their head. They can't decide what language to comeback with before I say "Gracias!" Click...not even a Merry What-have-you. I need to remember to say "Ciao! Happy Hanukkah fellas!" God willin' I could change lives.

It was even funnier this time 'cause I had to frantically yell at Mongo to come back in the house, "VENGA!" "VENGA!" as I was closing the door. They're going to catch on at the hive. The thing is they always send a different pair of blue haired blonde eyed boys for some reason. Do they all look like that in Clearwater? And they always open with the same insult of introducing themselves as Elder Chad and Elder Barry or some such shit.

I strongly suspect they select that type of "exotic" American boy to work on the local population of latinas. That's what a prophet like L Ron would do. They have the unmistakable non threatening appearance of an industrial boy band. It has no effect on me. I said "CLICK!" If God wanted me to receive the message I'd answer the door to that divorceé with grande tetas! I mean I've seen her around. Gods just showing off sending you two clowns! WHY Would Jesus Do That?

Maybe instead of Corona virus this year deliverance will bring our neighborhood a bunch of blue eyed babies? It'd be a lot harder to deny where the miracles came from. The thing is in "El Barrio Crispulo Gandara" we international travelers don't bother people door to door. Well... there was that one time that Chilean family beat me up, and that's prolly why we don't, but let's be real that was once in 8 years!

But before you ask, Yes I did make it a heated contest! I remember well. There was only one of them under 25 kilos. I was lucky indeed! because if history is any indication...But as I recall I was giving as good as I got when the smaller bastard bit hard into my calf and started backing up with an astonishing core strength and I admit it caught me leaning...simultaneously one of the bigger cowards struck me full on in the unchivalrous regions. Obviously once again betrayed as I was, I had no chance but to yield to the might of their strong arm. And yet as luck would have it that little bastard left me with another scar as a reminder that I will share with you when the time comes.

My normal story usually ends here but seeking redemption in my defeat this time and asking, "What Would Dave Do?" I immediately bought a six and returned to their house where I insisted on offering them beers while downing one and sheepishly repeating in Spanish, "You're still mad about that? Weird?" Jajaja fuck them! That's exactly as it all happened I swear to Dave.