The bunny saves

The other day I was taking my beloved train to work when two Mormon Elders boarded at the next station. I've never seen them wear nametags before but now at least they're upfront about who they are. Their tags say "Elder so-and-so" and beneath that it says Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or whatever they call it these days. (Please note: I don't think they are a bad lot per se. A handful of my friends are Mormon and we get along fine. It's just that, you know, I don't push my beliefs on you so I'd appreciate it if you didn't push your beliefs on me. Sound good? Wanna shake on it? Fantastic.)

You could tell they were scoping out the passengers for someone who looked "up" for a good discussion. I tried to make myself invisible but that's kind of difficult when you're standing right in front of them.

They took one look at me and then shuffled back a bit. I was wearing what my brother teasingly calls my "J-Lo" sunglasses so they couldn't tell that I was watching them. Steering clear of me they swiftly shuffled on deeper into the train.

What was wrong? Did I look like I didn't need to be "taught?" Were they seeing some kind of neon halo hovering over my head? Or did they see two flashing horns sticking out of my hair, instead?

I looked down and there, staring brazenly back at me from my hip, was a big, bold, bunny head. Hugh Hefner saves the day! Playboy bunny bag, how I love thee so.

I wonder what they would have done if I had been wearing my "I make good boys bad" shirt?