05 June 2012

Don't We All Have Our Hermit Days?

Without getting too political, I just want to say that I believe that every individual has the right to believe what they want, from religion to politics to what toothpaste is best.  It's all part of being human, right? 

And that is why I respect the beliefs of the folks from a certain religious organization that come to my door once a month to chat me up a bit.  I don't say, "I'm not interested," and slam the door in their faces--they are people with feelings, after all.  But I don't bring them to believe that I am going to join them any time soon, either.  Jay thinks I'm giving them false hope.  I don't know.  But I do know that I can count on a visit from them monthly.  Like clockwork.

Yesterday was visit day.  I was tired from being kept up the night before by Jay shouting at the TV while he was watching the Celtics game.  And I was looking about as crappy as I was feeling.  The most interaction I wanted was with the electronic voice in the do-it-yourself checkout lane at the grocery store.  So, when I saw my guests' car pull into our driveway as I was finishing yesterday's blog post, I tiptoed over to the door, made sure it was locked and then just stood there, barely breathing.  I was paranoid that the woman (who happens to be a very kind and lovely person) was getting a vibe that I was only mere feet away from her with only inches of wall separating us.  So I got down on my hands and knees and crawled into the kitchen and sat on the floor in the corner against the cabinets.  I'm not sure why I felt the need to crawl--there was no way anybody could see me from our door or our driveway.  It did give me a sense of adventure, though.  Kind of like I was Julia Roberts in that movie, "Sleeping with the Enemy," but with a total lack of violence, mean people, and OCD.
My covert hiding spot.  Remind me to clean under the stove the next time I wash the floors.

The doorbell eventually rang followed by a knock, and Pippet went through her usual spazzy barking, grunting, whining, groaning, and jumping.  Then she got really confused because I wasn't getting up from my comfy spot on the floor and going to answer the door.  So she stood there staring at me with her head tilted, totally mute.  I was afraid the woman would figure out somebody was in the house because the dog was suddenly quiet, so I prodded Pippet to "go get 'em." She did some more barking and eventually my visitors left, providing me with some literature tucked behind the doorknob.  And I was free to continue being my unsocial self.

And here's the clincher:  The last two summers have brought about an increase in door-to-door sales in my neighborhood.  From new internet/cable/phone service sales people to college students selling magazines and textbooks, I can depend on at least a few visits over the next two months.  I feel bad saying "no" to these people, but I really have no interest in what they're selling.  Between sales people and my monthly house call from the holy world, I think I might be spending lots of time in my little corner.  I could even make it more appealing:

Luxe hiding.
So, if you are planning a visit over the summer, call me first.  I'll make sure to answer the door.


  1. You're really funny :)

    1. Many thanks to you, my very BFF! If only everyone thought so! I could tell you of a couple of people who I'm pretty sure don't (or won't!) see my humor in things. They're best avoided, I say!

  2. I say that an invisibility cloak would come in very handy. You do have the choice not to answer the door, the phone, the blog at your convenience. What has happened to privacy?
    I am looking to renting the Batcave, anyone know who manages that property?

    1. Two things that would be wonderful to have: your very own invisibilty cloak and a Batcave!! And I completely agree--it's up to the individual if they want to answer the door or not. Jeez!! All very good points!