THE PERFECT CHURCH VISITOR

 "I never complain. I never create a scene."

When I go to church, I never complain if I walk right by person after person, even ushers, and they never speak a word to me, as they are too busy talking to their friends."

"When I go to church I never offer an objection if I must walk down the long middle aisle to the front seat, while all the members of that church crowd the back seats and fix their curious gaze on my embarrassed march.  No-I just take my seat as a gentleman. I'm a nice visitor."

"I never growl aloud when I have to push by and walk over the feet of selfish church members who hog the aisle seats and wouldn't move out of their favorite place if it meant the salvation of a soul. Oh, no I just sit down meekly. I'm the ideal church stranger."

"When I go to church, occasionally I am seated in a sort of public nursery surrounded by crying babies and prowling children who walk on my clothes and sit on my hat and make so much noise and create so much commotion that I can neither see nor hear the minister. Oh, I was once a child myself. I wouldn't hurt a little one or embarrass a mother. I'm a nice church stranger."

"I never reprimand young people who sit behind me chewing gum, talking and making love. Oh, no, I'm too polite for that. I'm a nice person."

"I never complain when I go to church and wait twenty or thirty minutes for the service to begin that much late, or am forced to remain that much beyond the closing hour."

"At the close of the service as I walk toward the door I never make a scene if nobody speaks to me or shakes my hand.  No, they gather in little cliques and don't bother me.  I'm the nice visitor to church."

"And I'll tell you what else I am:  I'm the stranger who never comes back.  That's my little revenge for not being welcomed.  I know when I'm not wanted."