(Cause even I like to post witness stuff at times)
It wasn't often that I received a frenzied phone message to get to the Kingdom hall early, particularily from my friend Ruddinger*
* Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
"Tim! Get to the hall as quick as you can tonight. I need your help." There was nothing of the casual indifference that had become this young man's personality. There was a stark terror and rumblings of ominous vibrations. So I went early.
At 7:25 pm I waltzed into the semi-crowded kingdom hall, brushing aside the mildy disapproving stares of the middle aged, quietly floating through the mildly desperate conversation of the local 28 year old female virgin. Ruddiger waqs at the back of the hall angrily chewing at his fingernails, which were now bloodly slivers of their former glory. He looked at me and muttered to himself, his too large body draped in a 100 dollar suit bought 3 years ago.
"This is early??" he whispered furiously. "You're lucky I need your help or I'd punch you in the face.
I rolled my eyes and we made our way downstairs, his looks behind him only slightly less obvious then his mismatched socks.
"I forgot I had a talk tonight.." he groaned as we opened the door to the library, the favourite refuge for troublemakers, pregnant moms, and hungover Greeks.
"What?"
"I forgot about it, I got caught up with school and it just slipped my mind." He ran his hands through his buzzed psuedo-hair. "I already begged myself out of the last two, I couldn't get out of this one. I'm screwed, you gotta help me!"
I reminded him that I did NOT in fact have to help him, as I had written his last 3 talks with
him welching on payment every time (I had a mildy successful talk writing business) But of course.. I did.
You brothers have been there. It isn't very difficult to write one of these little ditties. The cliched intro, a few questions leading into the bible reading, followed with a tie in to how the mutterings of crazed desert folk 4000 years ago IS in fact relevant to us today. I was done in 10 minutes and with hardly a moment to spare he was on that stage, his trademark stony face spitting forth his trade mark indifferently monotoned words.
Here I am sitting in my regular seat at the back of the hall in "Troublemakers Row" and I'm looking around wondering how noone notices. How do people not know this was written in the middle stall as I released from my bowely prison my earlier lunch. Finally content to finish mangling some dimly remembered chapter in daniel, my compadre stumbled through his conclusion, and with a relieved glance in my direction, slouched his way to his seat. It was done. For another 5 weeks at least.
"Excellent!" boomed the mechanic-god from the top of his podium. "Brother Ruddiger, I can tell that you put a lot of thought into this talk, the way you delivered your conclusion really illustrates how familiar you were with the material. It is evident that you spent a lot of time familiarizing yourself with the scriptures. Well done. I am marking you as "Good" In your point you were working in, "How to appear interested when bored."
He turned and looked at me, incredulity shining through his normally stoic mask of "I don't care." I shrugged. Hell. The number two stall was always lucky.