Alcohol poisoning.

During my mission in Mexico, I got to meet a lot of people. I mean, a LOT. Here's a story of one of them, who was drunk. AND. HE. LOVED. TALKING. TO. US.

The first time I met him, I was brand new to my area and my mission. My companion and I were covering opposite sides of the street looking for doors to knock on when this guy saw me at around 4:00 P.M.(foreshadowing) and immediately wanted to talk to me. After a full afternoon of people shutting their doors on me, this guy seemed awesome!

My Spidey-sense had not fully developed yet

I, being a greenie, enthusiastically called out to my companion so he can also meet my brand new friend. My companion was signalling me to walk away. But how could I walk away form this friendly investigator, who undoubtedly is golden?

Turns out this guy was wasted beyond belief. He was the neighborhood drunk. And he was drunk nearly 24/7. AND he wanted to have a prayer with us...

Anyway, Drunky, as he was called by us, was convinced that he should be the one praying, as we had no idea what... a drunk guy would pray about.

Not the same guy

So imagine this in your head, two missionaries and a drunk guy by the side of a busy road standing in a circle getting ready to pray. Yes, he was screaming at the top of his lungs, and also, when in caps, he was throwing his head back.

Lord!... you have taken, my BROTHEEER!!!!

today!... is his FUNERAAAALLL!!!!

He's being buried.... at THREE!!!!

 

Isn't it...? 

 

why did you... TAKE HIM?!?!?!

amen.

We never knew if there really was a funeral because most of the time, he didn't know what day it was and he never mentioned it again the many, many times we saw him afterwards. But, as we walked away that first time, my companion gave me this look of "and now you know".