Twice today - once mid-afternoon, once just before 8pm - dude comes to our front door carrying packages of wetwipes. Not sure what his pitch was going to be - I figure, if you come to my door carrying wetwipes, and I dont know you, its a given I aint gonna answer. Both times, it was quite clear that we were home, but just didnt want to answer the door for him. The later time, I went through the front room, within line-of-sight of the window adjacent the front door, and just switched the dining room light off. That was fun. :) I wonder if hell come back tomorrow. Hoping he does, I think Ill put my bag of dried, bloody, rotten teeth on a string and wear it as a necklace, take my dentures *out*, *then* answer the door. Im sure hell appreciate that.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 03:15:03 +0000
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