Every weekend for the last four years, Dunfee and members of his ministry have stood watch over George's joint, taking up residence in the right of way with signs, video cameras and bullhorns in hand. They videotape customers' license plates and post them online, and they try to save the souls of anyone who comes and goes.
Now, the dancers have turned the tables, so to speak. Fed up with the tactics of Dunfee and his flock, they say they have finally accepted his constant invitation to come to church.
It's just that they've come wearing see-through shorts and toting Super Soakers.
They bring lawn chairs and - yesterday, anyway - grilled hamburgers, Monster energy drinks and corn on the cob.
They sat in front of the church and waved at passing cars but largely ignored the congregation behind them.
Likewise, the churchgoers largely ignored the dancers. Except for Stan Braxton. He stopped and held hands with Lola, a 42-year-old dancer who made $200 on her Saturday night shift, and prayed for her salvation. I say let em both have a mud wrestling contest.
VIA: the dispatch
-AL
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