This is the first in a series of guest posts from once and future Surf Report columnists, graciously provided to take up the slack while I’m off crying softly into a book manuscript. This first offering is by Brad, who used to write a great column here called Exit 149. Enjoy! -Jeff
Worked in bars and sideshows along the twilight zone
Only a crowd can make you feel so alone
And it really hit home
Booze and pills and powders
You can choose your medicine
Not much good comes from an unexpected knock on the door. I don’t know if people still ask to use the phone when their cars break down, but around here, an unexpected knock usually means a wino or a druggie who “wants” to do odd jobs in exchange for quick cash. I’m not having any of that, thank you, so most knocks go unanswered at my house. They’re a hassle and usually end in disappointment.
I remember a time during my first go at college an unexpected knock
occurred after 11 p.m. on a Saturday night. I went to the door and was
pleasantly surprised to see a girl I had a crush on standing in front
of me. It was like a dream come true and I immediately began composing
a letter to Penthouse Forum in my head. However, I wasn’t even near
the end of the opening sentence of the first draft when she told me
she was looking for the lacrosse-playing drug-dealing studs who lived
across the hall. My luck answering doors haven’t improved much since
that night.
But I was expecting someone recently when I answered a knock. I had no
clue what was waiting for me on the other side.
Instead of the person I was expecting, there were two well-dressed men
on my porch. One of them had a nice-looking hat–not a fedora, but
somewhere in that neighborhood. It was obvious they were not here to
offer up their services for odd jobs. These men were Jehovah’s
Witnesses and they wanted a few minutes of my time. My gut reaction
was to tell them no and never come back, but I opened the door, so I
had to pay the price. It’s not a set rule–more like a code I follow.
These Jehovah’s Witnesses were nice enough, but that’s to be expected
from them. I don’t recall many stories of surly Jehovah’s Witnesses
roughing up homeowners. It’s possible I missed one somewhere along the
way. I think they were surprised I let them stay on the porch and
talk. I wasn’t going to convert. I have nothing against religion, but
it’s not really my cup of tea. I also have no problem with people
following what they want. It’s a tough world and everyone needs to
find something to give him/her comfort. That being said, I don’t think
your religion is exactly kicking ass if you have to go door-to-door
recruiting members.
So I stood on the porch and let them have their moment. Non-hat did
all the talking and all the pamphlet handing out. The hat-wearer stood
off to the side and did his part of nodding his head. Until the end of
non-hat’s speech. That’s when hat-wearer kicked it into gear. Like I
said, I suspect these men are used to door being closed in their faces
and since they had someone actually letting them talk, they were going
to take advantage of it. Hat-wearer told me tales of woe in this world
and how people are going to hell. He never tried to directly recruit
me. He attempted the fear method on me. To no avail. I mean, Fox News
is the king of fear mongering and even it doesn’t faze me.
They left after they were both talked out and I went inside, tossed
the pamphlets onto the table and waited for the person I was
expecting. An hour went by, give or take, and the doorbell rang again.
I went to the door, opened it and was greeted by a scraggly looking
twitchy man.
“I noticed your gutters are in need of some cleaning. I can do it for $20.”
What’s the most recent unsolicited door-knocker you’ve encountered? What was his/her angle? Please tell us about it in the comments. And thanks for reading!
I’m just not feeling the love today…
T-Storm — right in the rectory.. *giggles*
I’m not sure if it’s because I’m approaching the end of what any reasonable person would call “middle age”, and that I’m evolving into a cranky old fart, but it pisses me off when someone comes to my door with some sort of unsolicited sales pitch (be it goods/services, religion, or charity). Why in the fuck do they think that they’re so goddamned important that they can interrupt me from doing whatever it is that I’m doing (even if it’s nothing, which is often a very good thing to do) to go answer the door to deal with their pitches? I have resources for all the goods/services that I need, religion is a personal belief (or non-) that I can take care of myself, and my charity giving is taken care of as a matter of my own private course of action. So get the fuck away from my door, you inconsiderate asswipe who just wasted a minute of my life that I’ll never get back.
I feel better now. Thanks for the QOD.
Most recent… A guy offering to repair my chimney. Yes, it needs work, no surprise there, I’m no stranger to the roof (my dad built houses, so a little bit of PM on my part is natural). Now, the guy was polite, I’ll give him that, but I did not trust him. He had your typical meth head mason look, and I certainly didn’t like how he was gazing into my garage (some old school furniture grade lumber and another old car in there, usually people look at the car, not the stealable items around it. He asked if he could give me an estimate, I told him as long as its from where he’s standing (Didn’t want him falling off the roof and scratching any of the cars in the driveway I spend all day cleaning and waxing) nor give him reason to stay any longer than necessary. $350. Yeah right sure. You may be able to spot bad chimneys from the street while your driving by, but you sure as hell underbid this job badly. So fastforward one week. I’m tinkering under the truck, garage closed and I hear something slowly driving up the street and pause… roll a bit.. pause, I pop up from under the truck to see wtf is going on and meth head chimney guy is on the prowl again, as soon as I popped up they started driving off a bit more purposefully. Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that my original feeling is correct? Now I’m a bit paranoid about leaving the house unattended.
LDS… usually teen agers here. There philosophy is the help you if you need it, fine, this pair showed up when I was working on the truck (25 year old truck at the time, oil sprayed yearly) I forget what I was fighting with on it, but I was grease from finger time to shoulder, I tell them I’m not interested in any talks about anything, and most definately not religion I’ve got my way, you got yours. They say thats fine, can we help you out. I lift an eyebrow and look at their pristine white shirts, shined shoes and the thought breifly enters my mind to take them up on their offer, but I’m feeling nice, I say ‘look at me, do you really think you should even have that thought cross your minds with the way you are dressed? (Shit, if I was to work on anything vehiclular, even now in good clothes, my mum to this day would skin my hide for ruining good clothes).
Actual door knockers are rare, the ‘no soliciting’ sign actual works. Last guy at the door immediately apologized and said he only just saw the sign after ringing the bell. I said thanks, have a good day.
One guy who did not seem to understand what the sign said immediately went into a sales spiel… I hold up my hand and tell him stop. “I have to ask YOU a few questions first;
“One. Can you read?” (yes)
then I point to the sign
“Two. What does it say?” (no soliciting)
“And what does that mean?” If they don’t know, I tell them nicely. If they do know, I then get extremely brusk with them, “Final question: What are you doing?” (selling junk).
“Good, now that we have established that, read the sign again. See ya”.
I love that sign. Lots of folks do see it, they stop at the bottom of the steps, read it, and walk away. Kudos to them.
From the Trailer Park Boys:
Tania: Have you read the bible?
Bubbles: Maybe I have maybe I haven’t. What’s it to you?
Hampton: Can you read my son?
Bubbles: Well that depends. Can you go fuck yourself?
Had an aspirin junkie show up at my door once and asked me if he could interest me in a penis. …The fuck man?!?
@t-storm
loved that part of the TPB’s and it’s still funny!
I tell JW’s and LDS’s that I worship Satan and they can come in to the dark side… they will leave quickly!
You can practice any religion you want as long as you don’t try to kill me, convert me or tell me how I should live my life. This is 2010, look at science and figure out that what you have been brainwashed to believe is just meant to control you. If there is a God then I can get closer to it in the outdoors than you ever will in your church…
That being said I have nothing against people that want to live a good life and help others.
The last person that knocked on my door came at 9pm and told me he was looking for somebody I had never heard of and wouldn’t go away. I had just moved into a rental and told him it must have been the last tenant and to talk to the landlord. I would not open the door so he went away. he came back about a week later and did the same thing and then explained he was trying to serve papers. Again I wouldn’t open the door and told him if he was serious to come back in the daylight. he left and never came back. I sat the Walther on the coffee table for a week or so after that just in case. too many crazies out there….
Please support our service men and women this Memorial Day. Thanks to all who have and are serving so that we can live in the greatest country in the world. Remember those who have given their lives for our freedoms. Support the USO or buy a service man/woman a meal when you see them in a restaurant. Have a safe weekend everyone!
You guys will never believe it, but I just had a door knocker wanting to talk to me about cancer…how ironic!
My most recent unexpected door knock was my neighbor, Jerry, who brought me a two foot long Italian Hogie from the local Italian Deli and it was excellent.
Beats the hell out of the Witnesses. Next time one of the witnesses asks me if I need any help, I will send them down town to Salino’s Deli.
Brittney…was he offering free breast exams?
No it was a woman…and shorty after I posted that, the cops came by and told her to leave…Isn’t that weird? The old guy across the street yelled to them, “Do you guys need my help with her?’ the cops laughed and drove off.
@Brittney
Dave…I’ve actually heard that story before, but it was from someone my boyfriend works with…
Does your boyfriend work for a major telecommunications company with offices in every country but Cuba? If not, maybe the Santa Barbara folks were just passing along an old Urban Legend.
I may file a complaint with HR if stories about gnomes, midgets and retards are willy-nilly spread around as truth from one office to the next. That aint right.
Dave: http://www.snopes.com/embarrass/mistaken/troll.asp
@Gretchen: Clearly, I have fodder for a law suit.
Sons of bitches. Retarded sons of bitches.
Kristen,
It’s one thing to ring my bell WITH your kid, even to let the kid try to take the lead on the sales pitch… but it is simply wrong to send the child to the door while you’re on the sidewalk….
that’s low.
Good Morning Surf Reporters…..
One of my most enlightening conversations happened way back when in Clarion days. 2 Mormon sistas, deaconesses? They were doing their mission thing, it was a cool.
They didn’t have to knock on my door as it was a beautiful summer morning and I was up catching the sun on the front stoop.
Eye contact, a smile, a friendly wave and there they were, coming up the walk. Little did they know that I was still contemplating the consequences of certain funny fungi that had been ingested hours before.
Add the fact that Philosophy class was one of my summer class electorates, so I had that going for me, which was nice…. I think…….sure, because therefore I am….
So here were these two clean and bright happy Mormon coeds ready to pontificate. I, was more than happy to participate.
The outcome of a really interesting conversation was that we all agreed; there is a greater being, an ultimate spirit, regardless of the name..
Time to hear from Professor Tom Lehrer, now 82, and still getting it on in Santa Cruz….
.
… NATIONAL BROTHERHOOD WEEK …
Oh, the poor folks hate the rich folks
And the rich folks hate the poor folks
All of my folks hate all of your folks
It’s American as apple pie
But during National Brotherhood Week
National Brotherhood Week
New Yorkers love the Puerto Ricans
‘Cause it’s very chic
Step up and shake the hand
Of someone you can’t stand
You can tolerate him if you try
Oh, the Protestants hate the Catholics
And the Catholics hate the Protestants
And the Hindus hate the Moslems
And everybody hates the Jews
But during National Brotherhood Week
National Brotherhood Week
It’s National Everyone-Smile-At-
One-Another-hood Week
Be nice to people who
Are inferior to you
It’s only for a week, so have no fear
Be grateful that it doesn’t last all year!
I know I’ll regret this. I can’t hep myself.
Brittney…
I agree with you that some people respond to a person knocking on their door “really offensively”.
However, just a word of clarification. That someone just knocked on your door and wanted to talk about cancer is coincidence. If you HAD cancer, it would be ironic.
I wish you good health and long life. I’m just doing a little wordnerding until I can get a real job.
OK, please feel free to return to the hate speech.
jtb
Clarification:
Brittney, that last sentence was not directed at you, although my formatting made it look that way.
It’s a jungle out here today and there’s no lack of acrimony for anyone, from religious pilgrims to retarted midgets.
Jeff asks a QOD about a Catholic christening and we have a respectful discussion about religious differences. Brad asks a QOD about door knocking and we put on white hoods and stage a cockfight. I’m not trying to piss on anybody’s parade; I can be as narrow-minded as the next guy. I will haul out my hood the next time we talk about politics, which should be about Tuesday if the guest-writers continue on course.
best witches,
jtb
Nice knockers.
once, back in the 90’s on christmas eve, all of us were fast asleep. about midnight, our doorbell rings and my husband, thinking it was an emergency, went bounding out of bed and down to the door, did i mention it was snowing hard and we live in amish country where the farmers have no phones. it turned out to be a very drunk, very young woman, carrying a baby in her arms, slogging thru about a foot and a half of white stuff and shivering her ass off. it seems that she was coming home from a bar, got stuck in a snowbank and needed a tow truck. my oldest secret peeked down into the hall and seeing the lady with the baby said,”if she says her name is mary, i’m hiding in the barn.” i almost fell over the railing at that one. everything worked out ok, tho, as the woman’s brother had a towing service and got her home safely. it makes you wonder, tho—-what kind of woman takes a newborn baby out drinking on christmas eve?
I want to talk about hunting ,fishing and wanting to fuck my neighbor…where the fuck is BUCK???
ps:@ john the basket. i think i’ve said it before, but i think i love you.
hubba hubba ding ding. i’m 75, wrinkly as sin, and if i get a face lift next summer, my navel will be up around my chin.
OMG! Sarah Palin came knocking on my door offering a BJ! but when i woke up it was just my dog pissing on the bed.
@jtb – It’s cool, no problem.
@Dave – No, he works in the Local 150 Operators Union — I just asked him where he heard that story and he told me it was from a guy who works in his shop. Except in his story, the ‘gnome’ was a census worker. So it’s very possible the story really happened but has been altered to fit different situations. Either way it’s an exceptional classic. Plus your version was written very well and made me ‘lol’ in the offie.
Have a good Memorial Day weekend Surf friends!
*office
jtb, apples and oranges. We’re bitching about ringing MY doorbell to waste MY time. It is a completely separate issue from discussing religious ceremonies.
If I want to be a morman, I’ll go seek out somebody.
If I want to be a mason, I _have_ to go seek out somebody.
All the door to door soliciting is doing is preying on people. Either too gullible, or down on their luck for some reason and get roped in.
Wanna know something? My mum has a couple JW friends. They talk religion when they want to in the classroom sense. Both sides are well aware no one is going to convert anybody. They talk politics. Whatever. I ain’t bagging on the JW, just bagging on some of their methods.
Next thing you’ll be telling me some screech weasel yelling bible verse on a corner challenging people on their morals is doing the work of the lord. Bull fucking shit. They are annoying, and the fact they try to start a screaming debate with you on an assumed lifestyle, fuck ’em. They crossed the line when they accuse you of fucking your sister and your neighbours wife just becuase you’re walking down the street with two females…Pffft.. Tyrosene may remember that winner if he ever drove/rode/walked/biked/bussed through downtown a few years ago.
This debate went from funny to angry.
Er…perhaps now isn’t the time to personally thank t-storm for the advice about using your faith bone to keep Apostate cancer at bay?
I just felt that while I was still “feeling the spirit” I should show my appreciation. Mr.Man’s faith bone was used to strengthen our faith and I can honestly say that I felt like I was actually in heaven.
I do believe it will be a weekend of multiple religious experiences….
And how did so many illegal immigrants become such good landscapers? There isn’t an acre of grass in the whole country of Mexico. =8^-)
@Chuck- Oh there are acres and acres of grass in Mexico. Just not the grass you are reefer-ing to!
What? Someone had to say it !
Just saw that tweet about stakes in buttermilk. I remember that was all the buzz a while back so…I’m soaking a couple nice ribeyes for tomorrow. Not much a fan of $10.27 a pound stuff but hey…I buy a 3oz bag of locally made green chile beef jerky for weekly road munch, ($9.67) so the only difference is the ten bucks for Bev to have a stake too. I’ll raost some fresh geen chiles too and drink some beer after my day which will starts at 7 and ends at 4….I hope. (worked today too!)
I always answer the door. But I might do it different than others. Anytime someone knocks on my door I grab a firearm and sling the door open. Then I force them inside. Last time it went something like this:
ME: Get in here you little bitch. State your business (had my revolver pressed to the side of her head)
HER: Sir, I’m just selling girl scout cookies. Only $3.50 a box.
ME: Fuck you , cunt. How do I know they aren’t laced with glass or mustard gas? Eat one first.
HER: Sir, Just let me go. I mean no harm. You don’t have to buy anything. Sorry to bother you.
So anyway, I ended up having to kill her. Never know who you can trust. And after my dog ate several of the cookies, and lived, I decided they were okay. Sorry, little girl. You don’t knock doors and not expect trouble. Not my fault. I did, however, leave several dollars on her courpse. I’m not a fucking thief.
Jason, you seem a little tense. Perhaps it’s been a long time since you used your faith bone? I do believe that you need to whip it out and revive your faith. …
I always ask if they’re made from real Girl Scouts.
Tammie,
I’m sure you’re correct. I’m going to pull up the picture I saved of your Gene Simmons tongue and flog the dolphin. Maybe I’ll feel better after that? I doubt it. I’ve seen the Sweede tongue so often that it doesn’t really do anything for me anymore. Can I get a picture of your hands? Bwahhhaaaaaaaa! Just kidding.
This whole thread is getting a bit…angry?
Happy Memorial weekend my friends! Please remember our troops. They make sure we can do this.
Peace, please.
Man! Gary Coleman dies and the whole place goes to shit!
Post hoc ergo propter hoc. It would be even more disturbing to infer that once this place went to shit, Gary Coleman died. Come to think about it, it probably wouldn’t be more disturbing, but it would be a little disturbing.
.
The last thought has nothing to do with this one, but I’m trying to keep my reps low…thank you for your service, Sidney.
.
And I had something to add to the earlier discussion, but I forgot…Oh, yeah: this is it…
.
Who can it be knocking at my door?
Go ‘way, don’t come ’round here no more.
Can’t you see that it’s late at night?
I’m very tired, and I’m not feeling right.
All I wish is to be alone;
Stay away, don’t you invade my home.
Best off if you hang outside,
Don’t come in – I’ll only run and hide.
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be knocking at my door?
Make no sound, tip-toe across the floor.
If he hears, he’ll knock all day,
I’ll be trapped, and here I’ll have to stay.
I’ve done no harm, I keep to myself;
There’s nothing wrong with my state of mental health.
I like it here with my childhood friend;
Here they come, those feelings again!
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Who can it be now?
Colin Hay
Great, now I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head all day. But, in the grand scheme of things, it’s a pretty good song to have lodged in there. 🙂
Yeah, I forgot where Colin was from and got the boomerang effect. All day long. But, as you say, it could be much worse.
jtb
Good Evening Surf Reporters…
I take everyone had a pleasant weekend?
looking for the wvsr baseball cap…i washed my husbands>ruined it…he cant go on without it!! any ideas?