August 17, 2012

Awkward...

The last time I had a proselytizer at my door
Yesterday something came up that reminded me of what I considered a funny story about the last time I had some Jehovah's Witnesses come to my door.

This was before I was married, so what I did must have put me on a list or something because it has been over a decade since I've had any of these proselytizers come to my door.


When I first moved to Boise I lived in a small two-bedroom duplex up on the bench.  The property used to have been a small home that was converted to a one-bedroom and a two-bedroom duplex.  Since I had the larger apartment and the garage it was my responsibility to take care of the large side ans rear lawn, which were essentially "mine".  The entire side fence was just thick with wild black raspberries that I pruned and harvested.

My preferred method for preserving the berries was to make jelly.  After picking and cleaning the fruit I'd freeze it before juicing.  This let me get more of the juice out.  One afternoon I had the local rock station on as I was juicing still-slightly-frozen blocks of raspberries.  I was using a knife to cut the fruit into manageable blocks.  Unfortunately the juicer was making a bit of a mess and my short was getting stained.  I removed my shirt to soak it and just went back to work because it was easier to shower than try to clean stained clothing.

I'm getting along at a good clip when I'm startled by my doorbell.  The ringer was in the kitchen not far from my head.  When I was startled I cut my finger with the knife.  As you can expect this hurt like hell.  The doorbell rings again as I'm applying direct pressure to the wound.  As I walk through the living room towards the front door I'm launching forth a steady stream of profanity directed at whomever is the source of the doorbell going off.

As I open the door I find two rather attractive women who couldn't have been much over 18.  I know I was quite a sight: shirtless, splattered with purple juice, bleeding, swearing, with some hard rock on the stereo behind me.  I can see a copy of The Watchtower in the one girls hand and I can also see the look of dread spreading across her face.

No Jehovah's WitnessesI cannot recall if I offered to let them in or not, but both women left in a bit of a hurry.  Even though I had been getting monthly visits from the Jehovah's Witnesses, I haven't seen once since.....even though their Church is just down the street a bit.

The only thing I think I could have done better would be to have some porn playing on the TV, which was in full sight of the front door.

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