Can’t You Read the Sign?

Some guy came to the door yesterday.

I hate that. Honestly, there’s a sign in my window. See it?

So, read it and understand that if, when I open my door, your face is not going to make me smile with glee….don’t knock.

The last time, before this one, it happened, it was two young women who wanted God knows what. I asked them if they could read. I pointed to the sign. They tried to say they weren’t solicitors. I calmly asked ‘which God would you like to be sacrificed to?’

They slunk away.

With a great story to tell!

Anyway, it’s Election Season.

And this guy came to the door.

My dogs were barking up a storm at him and the TV was loud (we were watching “Thunderbolts”) and I never ever open my door to a stranger, in fact, I hold on to the handle the whole time they’re standing on my property.

There he was. This….guy. In a worn canvas beach hat, gray t-shirt that read “New London Trees” but looked at though it had seen a few better days, and dark colored board shorts. He had a beard that needed tending and hair I can say the same for.

I pointed him to the sign and he did what they all do. He smiled, waved it off, and began on his spiel. I admit I couldn’t hear him all that well over the chaos but I did understand he’s running for City Counsel.

Oh. My.

Oh. Ok.

I don’t mean to turn into my mother here, I really don’t but….honest to God…my GrubHub Drivers dress better. No joke. (And they make me smile because they have food.)

I pointed him to the sign again, waved him goodbye as he continued talking and looking scruffily bewildered as I shut the door on him.

No solicitors means politicians too because they are, in fact, trying to solicit my vote.

Sitting back down to continue the movie and looking out the front window I saw him walk up the street, walk down the other side of the street, and walk back up the street. Each time looking a bit more beleaguered and worn than before. I don’t think he had much luck talking to his fellow New Londoners, at least not here in my neighborhood.

If you’re out there, Dude, take a tip from Aunty Moon; dress the part.

If you want a seat on the City Counsel don’t come to my door looking like you’re trying to sell ‘extra steaks’ off the back of a truck.

(I hated that guy! Grrrr!)

You want to support New London Trees as you campaign. That’s great! Now get a polo shirt with the logo on it. Ditch the hat. It wasn’t very warm yesterday so maybe a light pair of slacks would have been in order. Trim your beard. Pull back or better yet cut your unruly hair.

Above all….do not knock on doors that warn of your impending sacrifice should you be needlessly bothering the occupants.