After a few months of relative peace since the last winner of the “who is the most apocalyptic dingleberry of door-to-door solicitors” prize, along comes a bozo of truly epic proportions.
Today wasn’t the first time these idiots had bothered to turn up and disturb the peace of this household as they’d sent the team of two women a couple of times in the previous couple of weeks.
As I had much better things to do than get up to be assaulted by mega-tonnes of BS for some product or service I never enquired about nor frankly have the money to lose to the usual scammers who come round, I figured they’d take the hint and bugger off.
Eventually they did but what really stuck out in my memory was their technique.
They’d knock in a particular pattern on the door and then lean on the doorbell a couple of times.
But when they were ignored, they’d do the exact same two things again but immediately turn on their heel to leave.
Now, the first assault on the door I can understand even though the message of them being ignored should have been absolutely crystal clear because I’d either have YouTube going on the TV or the music is playing in The Nerdery where I’m working.
Unfortunately, the law is clear that their First Amendment right to be a completely inconsiderate jerk is considered far more sacred to the Supreme Court than the rights of the people who actually pay the stinking mortgage who just want to be left to live what remains of our lives in peace.
Is that *TRULY* too much to ask?
Apparently so in this day and age where manners and respect for other people is at an all-time low.
But seriously…what’s the point of the second knock and doorbell assault if you’re immediately leaving within five seconds of doing it other than to piss off the occupants of the home?
Fast forward to today’s numpty of the day who went through that whole sequence of actions again…knock/doorbell…repeat…bugger off.
That was about three or four hours ago.
I’m literally lying on the floor in front of my chair trying to unravel the mess last night’s jam session at the Wake Forest ice rink made of my vertebrae and I can see this doofus through the narrow window next to the door and then return my attention to Brooks and Elisha tackling mini-golf at a course in Des Plaines near Chicago which was far more interesting.
I’d have thought that this is now the third time your company has bugged me and that’s usually two more than most of the door-to-door irritants bother with unless they’re from Rectum or AT&T Fibre who apparently will never be bright enough to understand that the moment Google Fibre lit their fibre optic loop in this neighbourhood, neither of them will exist in my world and they certainly won’t be powering an ONT in this house as long as I’m alive.
But…no.
I’m settled into my chair in The Nerdery ready to memorialise the playlists I’ve been spinning for Seasons 12 and 13 of the MCHL Ironclad with fond memories of the themes behind the choice of tracks (some more subversive than others) and wouldn’t you know it’s the *SAME STUPID SOLICITOR* I ignored back for another round.
True to form, ignoring his two-stage pattern of annoying behaviour didn’t give him the required clue so I figured at this point I may as well have some fun with this bloke who is about as useful to me as a dingo’s donga.
I unlock and then re-lock the deadbolt when he gets to the cul-de-sac…and he hears it.
Why he thought it was a great idea to then come back down the driveway I truly will never know but at this point I did have to satisfy my curiosity before I dropped the word “OFF” with a F-bomb immediately proceeding it because apparently politely ignoring him or his company of imbeciles isn’t doing the trick.
No sooner had I cracked the door…he hits me with that word these soliciting nitwits thinks is an appropriate greeting to a perfect stranger.
If you’ve read this BLOG long enough, you know that word.
The words “excuse me?!?” had barely left my mouth before he raises his left arm in the air and then starts stomping off as if *I* am the one at fault for ruining *HIS* day.
I point out to his rapidly retreating back that his disrespectful attitude really wasn’t appropriate and that’s when he calls me a “nincompoop” as he’s still walking away.
Not turning and at least having the guts to say it to my face which tells you all you need know about how much of a coward he is.
But I’ve got to admit…he gets at least one point for using an insult that the Oxford Dictionary of the English Language says dates from the 17th Century but really has fallen out of favour for most of the decades I’ve been alive.
It’s certainly an inkling of creativity I didn’t think was within his bailiwick (that’s 15th Century for those keeping score!) 🙂
But maybe I need to just drop a two-word seven-letter phrase on anyone who disturbs the peace of this place because that seems to be the only thing these fools actually understand.