Baptized By A China Man

I really do need to stop answering the front door, like really. Usually I don’t have a problem saying no to people. It’s just, when their knocking on your door it’s a completely different story. It’s like, cause there here at my house that I have some kind of personal connection with them and can’t just say no. My housemates had to literally stop me inviting the homeless lady that sleeps on our steps in for the night during winter. Even last week when the Gas man came to check the meters; all he did was ask how I was and before I knew it 2 hours had passed, we were sat in the kitchen and I now knew everything from his violent exes, holidays as a child and friend James in prison for stabbing someone. Take tonight for example; two young chaps knocked on asking if I knew about “The Passover”. Not sure what he meant and not really caring I decided to introduce him to my sense of humour and ask him if he meant the Tinie Tempah song “Pass Out”. As he then explained the bible to me I made sure I regularly interrupted with comments that had absolutely no relevance to what he was preaching. As he explained about Jesus dying on the cross, I told him how my name means Jesus in Hebrew and asked if he thought I’d make a good Jesus one day. He said no and mentioned the sacrificial lamb thing in Egypt. I asked if he’d like to see my holiday snaps from Egypt. He said no and mentioned how everybody would die on judgement die. I asked if the vampires would die too. He said they didn’t exist and asked if I knew how people would survive the Passover. I said hide under my bed. He said no and mentioned eating the holy bread. I asked if they had muffins instead. He said no. The conversation continued like this for a further 50 minutes before he finally asked if I’d like to be saved. Not fully understanding what this entailed I of course said yes. Who wouldn’t want saving from the earth imploding into a great ball of fire right? Then before I knew what was even happening I was sat on the floor in my hallway with my eyes closed whilst his Chinese friend chanted and prayed in excitement and poured a bowl or water over my head. Whether the water thing was to do with my “saving” or simply a method or them getting back at for my stupid questions I don’t know; all I know is my carpet is still wet, the bread wasn’t as nice as Warburton’s …and that I now may be Jewish? Well that’s what my housemate reckons my little hallway baptism means. I think the most important lesson learnt from this tale is to simply let someone else answer the door in future.