Smiling Politely

My friend QEII called on the weekend. She'd been working from home on Friday and had an electrician come round to do a couple of jobs. The good man overheard her chatting on the phone and after ascertaining that she worked in the mental health field proceeded to advise her that she was no help to the people she worked with, they'd all stay sick and go straight to hell if they didn't accept Jesus Christ as their saviour. He continued in this vein as he fiddled with this wire and that and QEII, who can be either very cutting or incredibly polite, chose to apply restraint to the situation and listened and made occasional murmuring noises.

As he left he said he'd have to mail her an invoice and would she mind if he popped a few other instructional pamphlets in with it, because he fretted mightily over the condition of her soul. At this point she couldn't resist. She smiled and told him, "Thank you, so much. But I'd rather you didn't. Every winter I have loads of trouble with my lungs. If what you say is true, a long spell in some hot dry air will do me the world of good."