Honestly...
Sunday, October 11, 2009
is the above sign so difficult for the average college student or adult to understand? Am I missing something here?
I have a "No Solicitation" sign displayed prominently on my front porch door, and yet it seems people don't understand what it means. I am not writing about the little neighborhood kids selling girl scout cookies or asking if they can make a couple of bucks raking leaves or shoveling snow, I am writing about adults who go door to door selling knock off colognes, candy bars, magazine subscriptions (always at a 'substantial discount'), and peddling for donations for the cause Du Jour.
There is a reason why I have that posted, and it is very simple. I don't want to buy knock off colognes, or buy candy bars, or buy magazines, or donate money to causes I know nothing about, know nothing about their non-profit status, or what the donation vs. administrative cost ratio is. Plus, it is irritating, to say the least.
I give generously to the local home for abused and abandon children, and to the local girl scout troop. I also give generously to the local homeless shelter canned food drive each Halloween that the neighborhood college students do each year, so I am not about not giving to causes I deem worthy,but I get in a very 'Get Off My Lawn' mode when I am interrupted at home.
4 comments:
There's a sign posted coming into my neighborhood. Doesn't stop them.
Sometime around sunset, the gates close. Doesn't stop them.
Tempted to chain a ravenous wolf in the front yard.
That's one of the advantages of living in a spooky looking old house. A few years ago, a pair of young Joe's Witnesses came to the front door, a young man and a young lady. I saw them coming up the walk and headed them off at the pass, throwing open the door just before the fellow could grab the door knocker and just stood there, staring at them, waiting for them to say something. I was wearing all black, as usual, and my hair was loose and totally unkempt and I happened to be wearing my pair of red lens Windsor glasses. They just stood there, with their mouths open, staring at me. I finally asked them, in my best Boris Karloff voice if they wanted something and the young lady held out a copy of The Watchtower. When I reached for it, she saw my black nail polish and rings and actually recoiled. I reached out and took it from her, said I would pass it on to the master of the house when he arose after sunset and invited them to come back then. They left. Hastily.
I like that, Gregor!
Gregor is the man! Outstanding tactic.
I get ugly with phone solicitors that seem to get around the no-call listings. I'm marginally polite before 1900 hours. After that and weekends, I rip ass. "I'ts fucking weekend, asshole!" then I clamp'em.
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