So I was at my favorite choke-and-puke in Denver, Golden Corral,and I noticed that a herd of mormon missionaries had come in to eat. They were wearing black suits complete with name tags and were being loud and boisterous amoung themselves but to their credit I didn't see them bothering others with their false mormon crap which is why I didn't confront them.
I didn't notice any adults with them.
I hope the waitress offered them coffee.

It was probably a zone conference. We would have zone conference in Spain and about 20 or more missionaries from our area and the surround small pueblos would come into town, have "training" and a testimony meeting and have 10 minute (or so) interviews with the mission president. After the day-long conference was over, we'd usually go out to eat or do something for a break, before going back to work that evening. But it was hard to schedule things for the evening of zone conference, because you didn't know how long it would last and you didn't want to break appointments. So going out to dinner or something usually worked better.

Those moments were precious as a missionary. A cold glass of water in a fiery hell.

Yes, it was penis day. Of course in mormonism...every day is penis day. Remember, as Brother Daryl Issa says, "Every sperm is sacred."

As I've mentioned before, there is a missionary apartment in my neighborhood, and I can tell it's their P-day when I see them shopping at the local Target and they're wearing jeans and t-shirts instead of their uniform, but they still wear their name tags.

zone/district/mission conference. no reason for them to be dressed up on their p-days. it's the only day they get to be "normal" at least for a few hours.