I had a crush on a Mormon girl in highschool. That ended pretty much as soon as I found out that Mormons are not allowed to consume caffeine or alcohol.
I used to encounter their missionaries regularly when I lived in Waterloo. I was mostly bored all the time in those days so I'd let them stop me, I'd shake their hands and listen to their schtick for 5 or 10 minutes. Then I'd tell them I didn't really feel like being saved, but thanks. They'd tell me they'd pray for me. I would call back over my shoulder, with a smile, "don't bother!"
Last night on my way to the bar, I was walking through Chinatown. I became acutely aware of a presence on my left. This was odd, as I had theretofore been walking alone. I glanced. At first I thought it was an acquaintance I'd hadn't seen in a while trying to get my attention. So I looked more closely. It was not the person I'd originally thought. Instead, a stranger. He smiled and said, "hi." Being the friendly and outgoing guy that I am, I smiled too and said, "hi."
"Have you ever heard of missionaries?" he asked. I looked down at his clothing and saw the Elder nametag. Sure, why wouldn't there be a Mormon missionary trying to recruit me in the middle of Chinatown at 9:00 on a Friday night?
"No," I lied, "and I'm in kind of a rush." I picked up the pace and lost him quickly. No handshake or anything.
I guess I'm just not as sporting as I used to be. Or maybe just not as bored.