Ding Dong the wicked doorbell is dead
That's it. I'm refusing to answer the front door any more. I'm even thinking of putting up a sign that says, "No Junk Calls", though given how effective the No Junk Mail sign on the postbox is, that could be an exercise in futility.
The days of kids calling to look for my children are long gone, their friends text when they're at the door, and bar the odd delivery which happens early in the morning, the only people to ring the doorbell these days are those looking to divest me of money. The day that prompted my no-door-answering resolution had begun very early, and I was jet-lagged too, just in from work. I was trying to decide between strong coffee and a snooze when the doorbell rang. It was midday and there stood a man saying he couldn't but notice my gutter. The gutter is a common theme with callers.
My blank face prompted him to add, "Your whole roof is a mess." Yep, so I've been told. He stood there with an accusing look on his face, like I was a roof-abuser. I stood there with an 'I don't have a spare 10k' look on my face. No-one spoke. It got weird. He handed me a leaflet and walked off.
I chose the snooze then which was rudely interrupted by the doorbell. I duly trundled downstairs to discover two jaunty young women, "Oh my God, you look EXHAUSTED." Straight off, there was no way I was buying anything off this pair, though they were adamant they weren't selling me anything. Dopey me was love-bombed with chit chat, it was very nice 'n' all but somewhat overwhelming. Did they really need to know my job? Um, I'm kinda busy (busy committing the cardinal sin of jet-lag but they didn't need to know that.) So they got to the point which was that although they weren't selling me anything they did want my money, for charity. A lie sprung to my lips, I was already signed up. "Really? Are you getting the emails?" asked one, "Is it all going well?" asked the other. Mmm, yes I smiled and nodded as I backed away while closing the door, never to open it to random rings again.