Hey Peeves, where are ya when I need ya?

crosseyesSo, first of all, sorry about that rant yesterday. It was Margaret who hit the nail on the head. I have never been very graceful about accepting unsolicited advice. The Commander might be able to tell you about that. If I need to know about something, I read about it. And believe me, as a mother of two, I have definitely read up about viruses. I don’t know it all but I have a basic working knowledge of what they are, how they are transmitted, how to (try to) avoid them, and how to treat them. Or not, which is *usually* the case. Although I know of some otherwise healthy adults this winter who’ve developed secondary bacterial infections like pneumonia. Not me, not this time, thank the gods. And if any of y’all ever catch me giving you unsolicited advice, PLEASE HIT ME!!! Fer Kee-reist!

So, I got home from a busy day at work today and as I was washing my feet (yes, I do that) and changing into what MTCB calls “comfortable” clothes, I was thinking, “this is about the time that solicitors ring the dern doorbell.” It honestly feels like they watch me drive into the driveway and wait a couple minutes until they’re sure I’m changing out of my half-baked attempt at business casual and then ring the bell. Startling the bejabbers out of me, of course. Like, I’M UNDRESSED!!

I swear, I am prescient. Today’s poor excuse for a human being was not quite so johnny-on-the-spot. I had already changed and was tryyyyying to do a little vacuuming. And laundry. And de-cluttering. The doorbell rang. Clean-cut young white kid who, when I said, firmly and not quite politely, “NO THANK YOU!”, didn’t. Stop, that is. I shouldda shut the big wooden door right then but I didn’t. I’m too dern polite. Really. It was some kind of kids’ wheelchair basketball scam. He shoved this booklet or something at me. I took it, thinking, “I’ll take his blasted propaganda and throw it in the recycle bin and he’ll go away.” I shut the glass door. He panicked! “Ma’am!!! It’s not FREE!!!” I re-found my courage. “Okay, then take it back and NO THANK YOU, like I said in the first place.” I shut the big wooden door and locked it and I could hear him swearing at me on my porch.

I do NOT need this kind of crap. Any time. ESPECIALLY after work! I do NOT like solicitors. I do not TRUST them. How the heck do I know they aren’t gonna get their foot in my door and strong-arm me down into the basement and kill me or something. Sorry. Find a new way to make a living. I do not need magazines or bathtub liners or replacement windows or any of your other crap. This is MY HOUSE and I didn’t invite you here.

G’night. And grrrrrr. –KW

P.S. Love you Wise Guys. You know who you are.

7 Responses to “Hey Peeves, where are ya when I need ya?”

  1. gg Says:

    That photo (of Elizabeth) was the very first picture I took with my new Pentax 35 mm camera!!!

  2. Margaret Says:

    A photo full of personality! I can’t believe that a solicitor would be that aggressive; I would be angry/scared. And I’m pretty sure that after my 3 1/2 hours of sleep last night, a virus is waiting in the wings for me.

  3. mouse Says:

    moom, if you’re going to nickname people at least make sure to use (uhm…almost typed “youse”. i blame 3.5 hour rehearsals) names that are not intelligible to the rest of us. who is MTCB?

  4. Pooh Says:

    MTCB = Mother Theresa Care Bear?

  5. kayak woman Says:

    Okay, okay, MTCB = My Thursday Coffee Buddy 🙂

  6. grandmothertrucker Says:

    3 men came to my door last Saturday morning from AT&T. Trying to offer me $200 cash to switch to AT&T. I told them I was very sick, and they just kept talking anyway. I just gave them a week smile and quietly shut the door. They left a bag full of phone books on my porch. I haven’t used a phone book in years, what for? I have the internet.

    3 guys… it takes 3 guys to convince people to switch to AT&T, on a Saturday morning, door to door? Are they desperate?

  7. Dog Mom Says:

    Oh, sheesh. We had that (or his clone) with the booklet from the wheelchair league at OUR house some weeks ago… Nook was the one who’d caught the initial contact (she shut him down with ye olde hostile glare or some similar statement). So. What happens? He SHOWS UP AFTER I GET HOME. And goes thru the schpiel. Tries to hand the booklet to me. I keep my arms crossed and don’t take the bait. He finally concedes to my stony stare (glare?) and apologizes for wasting my time and (thank the gods) LEAVES.