Mormons
I saw them when I was coming up the platform. Even from the back, without seeing their dopey little nametags, I knew they weren’t English teachers. There’s just something in the manner. They were standing there talking to two Indian guys. Okay, I don’t know that they were Indian, maybe they were Pakistani, or some other type of south Asian. But, they were smiling, nodding, and talking with the chosen ones.
I came up and sat down. By some chance, one song ended on my walkman and there were three or so painful seconds of silence where I had to hear their conversation. At first, there was an awkward silence, and you could hear the wheels in their heads turning, what to say next, what to say next, what to say n-
Mormon boy 1: So, I love nan. Is it hard to make nan?
His Indian/south Asian Companion: (frowns and looks up, thinking of how to explain)
Mormon boy 2: (to the other guy) So, uh, how do you make nan?
The song started and the train came. I had to just imagine where the conversation went. Fuck missionary work, I thought, those guys could be English teachers.
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