Since everyone seems to be talking about Mormons these days (specifically the magical Mormon who will allegedly swoop down and save us all if only do our American duty and vote for him), I thought I’d jump on the bandwagon and post about the one time I came in contact with Mormons.
Three years ago, I was living in a little white house in Colorado, all by myself. At that point in my life I was allergic to egg whites. Every time I wanted to make something that included an egg, I would use two egg yolks instead. I kept the whites in a container in the fridge, and when I got a whole bunch I made them into an angel food cake to give to my neighbors.
I will admit that I’m not the best baker in the world, and I had never made an angel food cake before, and I didn’t have the right sort of pan, and the cakes turned out kind of weird, and the fancy glaze I made to go over top to disguise the weirdness turned out pink.
As I stood in the kitchen, hot and bothered from the oven and the stress and the pink glaze, I heard a knock on the door. So I opened it. Three handsome young Mormon men stood outside my door. They wore ties and burgundy jackets and looked quite sharp.
“Hello,” said the one in the middle, “are your parents home?”
“I live alone,” I said.
“Oh,” he said, looking terribly embarrassed.
I think he gave me some sort of Mormon pamphlet then. I can’t remember exactly. I accepted it without comment, probably without even a change in my facial expression, because I was very tired from all that baking.
Then, the young man on the left smiled a big grin and said, “smells like you’re baking cookies!”
I smiled, but said nothing. I didn’t have the energy to explain that it was actually an angel food cake with pink glaze for my neighbors since I couldn’t eat egg whites.
There was an awkward silence.
“I mean,” added the guy on the left, “I wasn’t trying to hint that you should give us any. Ha ha.”
Again, I smiled a little but said nothing.
“Well we should go, thanks for your time,” said the middle man again. They all left.
And thus, when I think of Mormons, I think of awkward well-dressed young men.