Solicit this

(A.K.A. my Rant of the Week)

What’s with all the door-to-door soliciting lately? In the past two weeks, I’ve had the most motley string of vagrants ring my doorbell: a twiggy, middle-aged woman wanting to fix my windshield (which wasn’t broken), two pimply-faced high school girls offering to shampoo my carpets and furniture, and a scary old dude in a white cowboy hat urging me to buy magazines to help kids learn to make an honest living.

In my haste to get him off the porch, I refrained from asking two obvious yet critical questions:

1. Why aren’t the kids selling the magazines themselves?
2. The little shitheads aren’t stuffed in your trunk, are they?

Not long after that I was forced to close the blinds in my office lest I come face to face with what appeared to be a post-op lobotomy patient who was ringing my neighbor’s doorbell.

Is it just me? Or has door-to-door soliciting dramatically increased in the wake of the economic downturn? The “Do Not Call List” was great, but what I really need is a “Do Not Ring My Doorbell and Try to Sell Me Your Worthless Crap While Smelling Like a Butt Crack List.” If that’s ever invented, please call me. Or text me. Heck, you can even stop by and tell me in person—just don’t ring my doorbell.

Shelly