I Eat Door-To-Door Salespeople For Dinner

   You know what really bugs me? I mean, really, really bugs me? Those people who go door to door peddling whatever they are peddling, whether it's religion, cable service, cookies, or whatever. Do you know why these people really bug the hell out of me? Because whenever you tell them no, you are not interested, they still don't shut the hell up and go away. Then you are forced to either be a jackass and slam the door in their faces, or be a complete asshole, and just tell them straight up, "Go the hell away. I don't want your shit."
   I had this problem today, which really irritated me. I am sitting there, minding my own damn business, I have my beef stew cooking, and I'm so into the game that I am playing (it IS my vacation after all) that I haven't checked it yet. It's fine, right? It's in the crock pot, of course it's fine. But then I hear a knock at the door, and since I have some stuff coming through UPS, I get up and look out the peephole.
  I don't know if any of you wear glasses, but so far as I am concerned, those peepholes are not made for people with glasses. I can never see out of them very well, and since I am blind-as-a-bat without them, taking my glasses off helps nothing. Which means all I can see is that the person is holding something that could be one of those little scanner things that you sign, that the UPS carries, so I opened the door. It was someone trying to sell me internet, and they were holding a little clipboard. Really? Like I am gonna buy your shit? Leave a flyer on the freaking door, so that I can throw the bitch away at my leisure, and lets not waste either of our time. I have games to play here. I have an entire afternoon to waste, because I am on vacation. Don't fill up my wasted time with your door-to-door sales pitch. Wasted time might seem like, well, a waste to you, but I am a single mom. The amount of time I generally get to waste is typically very, very small. I value my wasted time, dammit!!!
   Okay, so it's not all a loss. One time, I had did have some religious people coming around here. I am not entirely sure why I answered the door at that time. Maybe they were holding a clipboard too. For some odd reason, I feel compelled to answer the door when someone is holding a clipboard, and I am gonna work on that issue, but I digress. These people wanted to save people. While I am religious and believe in God, I am not really a huge fan of organized religion, and I certainly am not walking into any strange-ass churches being peddled by door-to-door preachers, or whatever they are. But these people didn't really want to leave - I guess the had a quota to fill. They asked me, finally, in apparent desperation, after I had said no and was starting to shut the door on them, "Don't you know anyone who wants to be saved?" Wait, wait, wait. Anyone? Before I had really even had time to think about what I was doing, I gave them my sister's home address, who also happens to live in the same complex as me, so she was really easily reached. My sister, who has life sized zombies plastered to her wall, and a neat-o skull-and-crossbones with daggers sticking out (my mom gave it to her for her birthday) hung up all right in plain sight of the entry way. She once had a pizza guy want to come in and explore her apartment because he saw all that shit. My sister, who unlike me, really is an atheist. "Here's my sister's address. She needs God." I told them, while trying not to start cackling madly.
   I can't help doing shit like this. There's something wrong with me; I never denied it. But now that I think of this, I am realizing that I have not had door-to-door religious people knock on my door since. I think I owe my sister dinner. 

Conversation With An Idiot

   This morning, while  I was getting ready for work and jamming out to Avenged Sevenfold, there came this loud banging on my door. My first reaction was "Crap, my music is too loud." So I went to apologize to whichever neighbor had come to complain. I try to be nice to these neighbors, because they are pretty quiet and have been good people to live next too. I will totally blast a neighbor out with my music, but only in retaliation to having to listen to their crappy music first.
   However, the person so rudely banging on my door was not a neighbor. The person banging on my door was some lady that I have never seen before, and this is the line she greeted me with, "I've been looking forever. You give really bad directions."
  "Excuse me?" I reply, because I have never spoken to this lady in my life, "Who are you and what do you want?" And my tone is a tad bit pissy.
   "I have an appointment," she tells me matter-of-factly.
   "Not here you don't," I say and I start to shut the door, but her damn foot is in my doorway. I am considering smashing her foot with my door when she starts whining, and I hate whining. With a passion. Unless I am the one who is whining, I don't want to hear it.
   "I called and I was told that the leasing office is 25B, and isn't this 25B? This IS the leasing office," she whines.
   Now, let me give you a little picture of myself at this time. I was in the middle of getting ready for work, so I have my work shirt on, but I am still in my pajama bottoms. Avenged Sevenfold is blaring in the background, I have no shoes or socks on, and while my hair is brushed, I don't have my hair clips in yet. I don't really look like a leasing agent at this time. To further paint this picture, let me explain my apartment door. There is no sign that says leasing office, no hours of operation listed, nothing that points to this door belonging to a leasing office and not a private home. Usually, leasing offices want you to know that they are leasing offices, and they don't try to blend in with all the other apartments.
   She's not right in the head; this seems to be the only explanation, so I take pity on her and say," The leasing office is the building by the main road."
   "No this is the leasing office!" she exclaims.
  Yup. That's it; the final straw. I am done with this moron. "Move your foot," I snap, " This is not an office, this is my private home, and you are NOT coming in here."
   She moves her foot and I slam the door shut, in her face since she has not bothered to back up. I go around to the window that looks out at the sidewalk and look out, and she is still standing there, looking at my door. This is why I shouldn't answer the door. I know that I shouldn't answer the door, but I do it anyway. I don't know why. The woman stared at my door for another minute or so, and then left, but I do wonder how long that woman would have stood there, staring at my door, if I had not answered though.