Thanks a lot, Sir Paul McCartney. You had to write that blasted song to make people think that everyone loves people just dropping by whenever they get the notion. “Someone’s knocking at the door, someone’s ringing the bell. Someone’s knocking at the door, someone’s ringing the bell. Do me a favor, open the door and let ’em in.” Ummmm. No. Don’t let them in. I’m not interested in what they’re selling. I’m really not.
If you’re anything like me, your home is your sanctuary. It’s a place where you can shut out the world and spend your time however you choose. You can keep it as clean as you’d like or as filthy as you’d like because, after all, it is your house. And you can wear or not wear whatever you’d like, too. Although, if you have minor children, I would advise against that. But, yes, if you live alone or with other consenting adults and you want to walk around in your birthday suit or your underwear or your pajamas or whatever, feel free! Don’t feel like showering? Skip a day. In fact, skip two! But please, whatever you do, don’t go more than three days. People will start getting concerned and the whole thing could snowball. And you and I might have to have a talk. “My friend, it’s time.” “Time for what?” you ask. “It’s time you get in the tub and SCRUB. You STINK, my friend.” I’d really rather not have that conversation with you, so please don’t go more than 3 days without bathing, ok?
When I’m home, I like to be comfortable. It’s just me and my husband and the dog, so who cares what I’m wearing or whether I’ve brushed my hair? Sometimes I like to schlep around in my pajamas and whether or not I ever get around to putting on an actual outfit depends on how I feel that particular day. Most days, I might upgrade one level to a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and every now and then, I might upgrade two levels to a pair of jeans and a casual top. But that’s only if I plan on leaving the house. Although, sometimes I’ll shower and put on jeans and a nice top afterward, with every intention of knocking out my grocery shopping or some other errand, and then I’ll think about getting out and about amongst my fellow humans and quickly change my mind. Whenever my husband notices me wearing something other than pajamas or sweatpants, he always appears taken aback and asks if I’m planning on going somewhere. Psych! Nope, I was and then I thought otherwise. Not going anywhere today, Buddy! Thought you’d get the house all to yourself? Think again!!
But sometimes, even when you are feeling quite content being in your quiet, little home and minding your own business, humanity decides to come knocking at your door. And it’s the very worst of humanity! Knock, knock. Who’s there? “Ummmm, well, my name’s Jacob. I sell meat out of the trunk of my car and wanted to know if you’re interested in a great deal on ground sirloin or thinly cut porkchops? We’re running a special today. If you buy 100 pounds of meat, we’ll throw in 5 pounds for free!” You’ve never had a guy show up at your house selling meat out of his trunk? Well, I have. Here’s another. Knock, knock. Who’s there? “Hello, Ms. My name’s Ethan. I am selling magazine subscriptions that are on sale for a limited time. And if I sell enough subscriptions, I can earn a trip to Hawaii and maybe escape the cult that is holding me hostage.” Haven’t had that happen either? I have. Here’s yet another. Knock, knock. Who’s there? “Hello, how are you today? We’re a part of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and would like to speak with you today about your beliefs. Do you believe in God? Do you pray? Do you go to church? Are you interested in a copy of ‘The Watchtower’? We’d love for you to join us and if you can’t make up your mind today, not to worry! We’ll be back every two weeks for as long as it takes because we care about your salvation!” Haven’t had that happen to you before? No? Now, I know you’re lying!! Or maybe you’re one of the lucky few? If you are, you’d better hightail it over to 7-11 and buy a lottery ticket!
Mr. Meat Guy, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not buying any of your meat. Is my husband home? No, he’s not. I know he purchased some from you before but it’s not going to happen a second time (as long as I have anything to say about it). Go peddle your goods elsewhere. I buy my meat from the supermarket which is a great deal cleaner than the trunk of your car! Mr. Magazine Subscription, I wish I could help you today because I do enjoy magazines but I’m not willing to support your cult. My apologies. And for what it’s worth, they’re never going to send you to Hawaii. I think it’s important that you hear the truth. I know, it sucks, but they’re really going to use the money to pay for the leader’s mansion and all of his expensive cars. Mr. and Mrs. Jehovah’s Witness(es), I know you mean well but you’re beginning to get on my last nerve. Stop coming to my house all the damn time and sliding your brochures under my door. I’m not EVER going to join your church. I have my own beliefs and they’re none of your business.
As you might have guessed, my friends, I’ve had a few ‘run-ins’ with solicitors, folks that think they can stop by at any given time and ‘market their goods’. I don’t know where they got the (wrong) idea that I’d love for them to stop by my house. Did the neighbors put them up to it? Or maybe they heard Sir Paul McCartney sing “Let ’em in” enough times that they thought I was only bluffing when I told them, “NEVER come back, I’m NOT interested!”? I don’t know. What I do know is that I want them to leave me alone. I’m not bothering anybody. I’m just sitting here in my pajamas, sporting some rather unruly hair and minding my own business. I did finally get around to posting a ‘NO SOLICITING’ sign so I’m hopeful that will make a difference. Oh! You’re interested in stopping by? You don’t happen to sell insurance, do you? No? Oh, good. How about Avon? No? Are you going to ask me to sign up to join a company that’s actually part of a pyramid scheme? No? Oh, good! That’s a relief! Oh, you’re not actually selling anything, you just want to stop by and visit over a cup of tea? Really?! Well, come on in, my friend. I’ll put the kettle on the stove! The rest of you folks, Mr. Magazine Subscription, Mr. Meat Guy, Mr. and Mrs. Jehovah’s Witness(es), Mr. Right Wing, Mrs. Left Wing, Mr. Support-My-Cause and Mrs. Sharpest-Knives-On-The-Planet, I think you know where you stand. And it had better not be right outside my front door!
My entire family is insane. 