At the risk of sounding like Lord Incest, I'll begin by telling you that I was working out. I was doing pilates in my bedroom when I heard a knock at the door. I got out of my downward plank position, grabbed a towel to wipe off the sweat, and went to answer the door.
There stood the usual Baptist sinner patrol in full regalia. The man was wearing a suit that was about three sizes too small for him and sweating profusely even though it was only 8 a.m. and still cool outside. The woman stood in her floral dress and tennis shoes holding pamphlets all informing me of the tortures of hell that await me and my children because I don't subscribe to her version of God.
I opened the door and they began reciting their speech. Rolling my eyes, I figured that I was going to be dealing with their asinine infringement of my privacy for a while. As I mentally prepared ways to tell them to fuck off that would be appropriate to say around my kids, I took the towel from around my shoulders and started to put my hair in a pony tail.
All of a sudden, they turned tail and RAN out of my house. "I'm so sorry," the woman yelled over her shoulder, "I can see that we've disturbed you."
I just shrugged my shoulders and headed back to my workout wondering how in the world I got so lucky. I got back on my yoga mat and about half way into child's pose when I realized that my tit had completely fallen out of my tank top. While I was standing there trying to think of ways to ensure that those idiots would never return to my doorstep, my boobs were taking care of business. Serendipity kicks ass! And I know what to do about those pesky Mormons now.