You know those people that come to your house?
So today I was working upstairs – which is where all of the “magic” happens – and then ‘bing-bong’ goes the doorbell. I rushed down the stairs and answered the door in an extremely dissheveled and frenzied manner – which – and I know that you weren’t necessarily asking – is usually a great way to open the door if you are trying to get rid of the people doing all of the ‘bing-bong(ing)’.
Now wait wait wait young sir – you may just be thinking to yourself – why in the world would you want to scare people away from your door?! Well it is an epic struggle from those who are at home in the middle of the day and those people who are all about knocking on my door to give me some crazy booklet with a baby holding a star and looking at a rainbow – or whatever – you know those people . . . Here is how the conversation typically goes:
Them:Why hello sir! What a glorious day we are blessed to be having. Would you be interested in . . .
It is usually by now that they realize just how dissheveled and frenzied my door opening was and start to trail off. So then I mumble something about “Having to work . . . working from home . . . gotta go to do some work” or something even more effective like coughing uproriously and then – and yes I do go back to the mumble for this – “Really sick . . . work from home . . . sorry about my dog . . . gotta go do something.” At which point they usually give measured glances to me and then at each other and decide to just cut their losses give me their pamphlet and go to the next house.
Today was the exception (and I have to point out that this was their third visit this week – and so I think that they are catching onto my little game) – I pulled the mumbling work thing – they gave me their pamphlets – and then the deal was done – right?! Oh no friend – because as they were leaving – just before they threw in their “Have a blessed day” thing – the leader mentioned that they would love to come back and talk with me about whatever I was supposed to be reading in their pamphlets . . . like some sort of potential pop-quiz or something. I was trapped – my tricks hadn’t gotten rid of them at all and so in a vain effort I threw out the “Even though I work from home . . . meetings . . . sometimes I go out . . . to meetings.” or something like that. She just looked and – even though I’m not even really sure if she said anything – this is what I got from her eyes – – “We know when you are here . . . we will find you . . .” So I have lost this battle . . . and will be boarding a cruise to Antigua on the first of the month . . . or maybe I’ll just have them in for tea and cakes . . . or – or – or . . .
Here you are! Can we meet later and discuss the rainbows, babies and your belief in them? I'll stop by tomorrow.
do i need to come by there and kick this lady in the balls?
children frequent this weblog!
don't you worry your pretty head – only you me and the robot really frequent this place . . . and I liiiiiiiiivvvvvvvveeeeee here . . .
Awesomes! As I read, I imagined my perfect dream scenario. The nuts come to the door, I open it, bleary-eyed and prolly still half-drunk from the night before. They deliver the shpeel and I give them the old “O RLY?” They hand me a pamphlet. I barely look at it before flinging it, flat-rock skimmy-style, across the lawn.
“So long, bitches,” I tell them, before slamming the door. They pick up their pamphlet and pray for me before moving on to the next house.
Of course, none of this will ever happen, because I am terrified of conflict.