When the doorbell rings at our house, it's usually one of two things. (1) The UPS man delivering a package ... for the woman who used to live here, from her Uncle Herb, or (2) religious solicitors -- those trying to sell me their religion, that is.
Folks in the latter category unfailingly ring the doorbell early in the morning, which means they've woken up my night-working ass and I'm already unhappy. The process usually goes like this: The doorbell rings, jarring me awake, but I lie still for a second debating whether to get up and answer it. "It's just some religion folks, don't bother," I tell myself. But then I think, "What if it's a neighbor in need? Or a florist with a delivery from George Clooney?" Besides, I realize, if I stay in bed the dog's going to fuss until I'm wide awake anyway, so I might as well investigate. So I open the door, in my jammies and with bedhead that SHOULD frighten anyone away, and it begins.
They (and "they" are always infuriatingly nice -- a couple today even picked up my newspaper and handed it to me!) introduce themselves and state their purpose. I stand there and listen, exuding an air that's gotta come off as a weird cross between civility and hostility, because that's pretty much how I'm feeling, and try to think of a way out of this as the person is speaking.
Generally, I wait out the windup and then comes the pitch: "Can I give you this pamphlet?" I nicely, sort of, say no, and then -- mercifully -- the person usually says thank you and leaves. And then I try to go back to bed, but can't because it's too close to waking up time, and I'm too mad at myself for wasting three minutes of my life on this.
I mean, look, I'm not hostile to religion. Well, OK. I'm not hostile to religious people, as long as they don't proselytize in my general direction. But, dang it, it's just weird to have a stranger come to your door and talk about religion with you. Isn't that ... isn't that kind of PERSONAL? I don't ring people's doorbells and ask about medical conditions. "Hi, can I give you this pamphlet on hemorrhoids?" Or ask how much money they make, or whether they cheat on their spouse.
So it kind of pisses me off that I'm so friendly to these people, who are basically invading my physical AND spiritual space. Do I owe them that? Not really. But I guess meanness takes energy I haven't had a chance to muster up yet when I'm woken suddenly. I'm different from a lot of people in that respect.
Also keeping me awake and worked up for a long time after the religious solicitor has come and gone are all the tempting "should haves." Like, "Dang, I should have told them 'thanks, but I'm a homosexual Muslim extremist,' or 'thanks, but I have highly contagious flesh-eating disease and I probably shouldn't have opened the door -- COUGH COUGH.'" But I never do it. Maybe next time.
Sigh.
