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Several years ago, I worked at a language school in Japan. One of my responsibilities was to assist in the hiring of new teachers. I had just offered a guy a job when I walked back into the staff room, and Michael, an American teacher already working with us, asked, “So, did you hire someone?”
“Yes,” I said. “Seems a nice guy. A bit religious, though.”
“What do you mean?” asked Michael.
“Well he had all this stuff about the Church of the Latter Day Saints or something on his C.V.”
Michael began laughing and then said, “You just hired a Mormon!”
I’d never met a Mormon before. “Is that bad?” I asked.
“Well,” said Michael, “he’s probably okay, but they can be a bit weird. They used to be into polygamy and they think Jesus went to America.”
The Mormon arrived a month or so later, and as it turns out he was okay. His father was only married to one woman, and although he didn’t drink and gave me a Mormon bible for Christmas he was otherwise quite a pleasant fellow, and an able teacher. In fact, we got along very well. Thus it was that he invited me to play basketball with him and a few of his friends one Saturday afternoon. I’m not much of a basketball player, but I was free and Michael was going, too so I agreed to join them.
Michael and I arrived at the gym and the Mormon was already shooting a few hoops with friends from his church. He didn’t introduce us, so I took it upon myself to be friendly and introduce myself.
“I’m Elder Patterson,” said the first.
“Alright, Elder,” I said, thinking he just had one of those unusual names Americans sometimes give their children.
“And I’m Elder Simmons,” said the second.
They were elders in their church, over in Japan on their compulsory two-year mission. Now I didn’t know what to call them, because neither had told me his first name, and saying, “Oi, Patterson, pass the ball,” seemed a tad unfriendly to be used anywhere outside an English public school. They probably wouldn’t have minded, though, because when I said, “So you are both friends with David?” they looked at each other with some confusion, until I pointed out my Mormon colleague with whom they had come to the gym and they said, “Oh, you mean Harper!”
“What odd fellows!” I thought, before saying, “Right, shall we get a game going, then?”
The two Mormons said they didn’t think they could play a proper game.
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “I’m completely crap, but I’m happy to play a game.”
“It’s not that,” said Elder Patterson. “We’re not allowed to play on a full court.”
“What?” I said.
“While on our mission,” said Elder Simmons. “We can play on a half court, though!” he added with a somewhat frightening smile.
I told them to wait a minute and went to speak to David.
“David,” I said, “your friends seem to be saying they can’t play on a full court, but they can play on a half court.”
“Oh, yeah, I should have mentioned that,” said David.
“But that’s weird,” I said. “That’s a rule of your church?”
“Oh no,” laughed Dvaid. “I can play on a full court. It’s just during these guys’ mission that they can only play on a half court!” and then he looked at me as if that somehow explained the perfect logic of such a rule.
“Michael,” I said, after seeking out my non-Mormon chum, “I think we should probably go home. They’re not normal!"
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