On the ACC Chronicles adventure field trip around The National Mall, the lawn was, out of everything, my favorite. The museums are great and definitely worthwhile, but when you should begin to feel the hunger creep up, a picnic on The National Lawn is how you must quell it. There are plenty of food trucks spread around the lawn to purchase food and drink, and should you find their prices unsavory, bringing lunch is a well thought out and free plan. The only downside to the grand and glorious lawn is the other people on it.
During my time resting my tired limbs from walking around the museums, a missionary encountered both a fellow resting reporter and I. To be clear, it’s “encountered” not because we found her, but because she found us. Laying upon the soft picnic blanket provided by a dear friend, she approached. Politely she asked if we had accepted Jesus Christ as our personal savior and our names, while providing us her own name, then she waited. Quickly realizing I had no desire for her, a stranger, to know mine, I gave her a fake, slightly Catholic name: Anna. The woman, June, as she introduced herself, asked if we attended church.
“Yes I go to church regularly, every Sunday,” Emelyn, the other reporter on the scene, answered in a truthful manner.
Should you find yourself in a similar situation with a missionary, giving a resembling answer to Emelyn’s will lead to minimal interaction time. It matters not on whether it’s the truth, they are not a judge, and you are not on the witness stand. I, on the other hand, was foolish and didn’t catch on to the situation quite as fast. Instead I picked up on Emelyn’s honest sounding answer and gave June one that I felt was enough to quell her questioning.
Mistakes were made. June was not quelled, she was invigorated. She must have picked up on my mumbled dishonest answer as she proceeded to hand both Emelyn and I pamphlets, while talking more about her religion. After maybe fifteen minutes I made another false move, irked that she hadn’t left, I began to argue the ideas she presented.
This is a bad idea do not do this. Instead remove yourself from the situation. If, like us, you sat down for a picnic and enjoyed the location you have parked yourself at, make the executive decision to find an adult looking friend. Tell the missionary that your parent or older sibling is summoning you over. This is a classic move and also works well on the phone. However, in front of the missionary do not say summon as they may begin to hound you more, believe you are participating in the demonic arts or a demon spawn yourself. If you are, that’s fine, but please catch yourself on the usage of summon, however true it may be.
Another mistake I made was standing my ground. I stayed true to the arguments I made against June. The only manner that June, and possibly other missionaries, are quelled is if you back down. June scampered off to preach to another group of unsuspecting individuals as soon as I told her that I had accepted her words. It matters not if you insist that you are of their religion if you mess up on the other things, as I did, they will not hear or believe you. Instead, use the tactics I gave you above. Treat them like the fae by removing yourself, backing down, LYING, giving them a false name and persona, being vague about yourself. Finally, remember, that once past the missionaries and other folk, the Lawn of the National Mall is quite the lovely and refreshing place for a picnic.