When I was in college, the local area had a large number of door-to-door churchy types. One time, I opened the door while wearing a towel to two young Mormon missionaries and while they talked, I kept adjusting my towel. The one guy kept hemming and hawing while he made his shpiel while the other kept smiling. By the time they were done, it was noticeable that they both had nice bulges in their black trousers. Nothing happened but I hoped they managed to get off together later in the day. Where I love now still has the occasional evangelist but most are older or women, though there is a young guy or two every now and then.