Come And Knock On My Door

I've recently had a number of people come to the door of my Fortress of Ineptitude.  I wrote here about the tree people who cleaned up my sprawling trees way overdue for a trim. But here are some other recent visitors who have been less beneficial and makes me wish to have a crocodile infested moat installed around the Fortress.

Two well tanned young women in shorts who were promoting or pushing some kind of college prep thing for college bound kids to help them get a leg up on SATs, CATs, STDs....

I have no idea. I do remember they had lovely golden sunkissed skin and if I were a much younger (and single. Don't forget single!) man, I would be writing a much different blog post about a virile young man helping two gorgeous co-eds "work their way through college" if you know what I mean which you can't know what I mean because I don't know what I mean, I'm just making stuff up and now this is getting awkward because this sentence just doesn't want to end. 

Whew! It just did.  

And yes, dammit, it would be a fictional account because let's face it, when I was a younger man (and single. Don't forget single!), I had no clue what to do with one woman, let alone two. 

But I'm a much older man (and married. Don't forget married!) and the main thought I had as I sent those lovely young ladies with their lovely tans on their way was, "They better watch it with all the tanning or they could get skin cancer."  

Then there was the black guy with the gold teeth. Extremely energetic and just oozing with positiveness. I forgot exactly what his deal was other than he's trying to make a better life for himself. Well, yay for him. Except making a better life for himself involved something to do with books. He told me up front he wasn't selling anything but he had books I could buy. 

Now that my friends is threading a needle. "I'm not selling anything but I have stuff you can buy. If you give me money in exchange for a product, that's on you for buying it. I'm not selling anything."  

Points for chutzpah, my friend. 

But he had nothing I wanted to buy and besides, I have a rule about not buy things from people who come to my door. (Tree cutting services being an exception, apparently.) 

To his credit, the young man with the gleaming golden teeth (they were quite shiny!) politely thanked me for my time and went on his way. Some of these guys would keep pushing and with me, you're not going to win that battle, you're just ticking me off. But this guy knew the gig was up. 

Hey, I turned down two golden tanned co-eds. I ain't buying from them, I ain't buying from anybody. 

Then there was the guy with the furniture. 

No, he wasn't standing at my door with a catalog of furniture options for me to choose from. This guy had actual furniture in the back of a big, honking semi-truck parked in the street in front of my house.  

I'm not sure of the logistics here. A guy going around the neighborhood with a semi-truck full of furniture? How does that even...I mean, how....? Why?  

A few months back, we had a guy come to the door selling meat. Not peddling Trump Steaks out of a catalog. No, a big freezer truck full of meat. I wonder, did anyone actually buy meat from this guy? Did the furniture dude get any takers? I wonder if they know at least a couple of police officers live in our neighborhood?  Surely, at least for the furniture peddler with semi-truck full of fine home furnishings, something has to be a bit shady about this business model. 

And of course we get the visitors to our door wanting to know if we've found Jesus. 

And I'm so glad my suffering amuses you. 

Thank you for dropping by. There's a new post tomorrow. Heads up! It's a special edition of my semi-recurring news satire feature, Broken News. 

Until next time, remember to be good to one another.