Sarcasm, Belligerence or Condescension

Hi!  It’s so nice to see you, especially since you came to the Back Door – I’ll explain that in a minute.  Here’s a mug, coffee is in the thermos and you already know where to find the treats.  It’s not like it’s the first time you’re here.  You are family now.  You’re lucky I don’t assign a chore.

Yes, that was a joke.  I would never force you to work for your coffee because that would be wrong and I hate having chores when I visit one of you.

So, I’ve had to answer my front door 3 times this week.  3 times!  And I always approach the Front Door Summons with some trepidation because there are a finite number of things that happen at my Front Door and not all of them are pleasant.  And rarely is it a friend.

Everyone I know comes to the Back Door.  You do.  You knock once, come on in and yell, in a very high voice, “HELLOOOOO”.  I had a weirdo friend once that wanted everyone to use the Front Door all the time.  I had to stop visiting her because who knows what other kinds of horrible things she’s got going on?  What was she hiding in her back entry?  Did she have small children chained to the wall or something?  Who knows?  No one was allowed to go back there!

And a Summons from the Front Door isn’t like a phone call where any sort of fuckery can happen, there’s usually only a few reasons someone might be on the other side of that door.

Good Reasons Someone Would Be At My Front Door:

• To give me 2 Night Vision Goggles so The Viking and I can play Hide ‘n Seek in the dark.

That pretty much ends my list of good things that happen at the Front Door.

Bad Reasons Someone Would Be At My Front Door:

• It could be the police wanting to know if I’m a Grow-Op (no), or if I own a Rav 4 with front end damage (maybe), or if I own any firearms (no), or where I was night before last between the hours of 11:00pm and 3:00am (probably asleep in bed but I couldn’t prove it).
• It could be armed assailants that want to steal our TV. It is a really nice TV.
• It could be someone complaining that we forgot to close the curtains for Naked Hockey Night.  That doesn’t happen very often though.

Most probably though, whoever is on the other side of my Front Door wants to sell me something or teach me something – neither of which I’m interested in.  Unless they want to teach me how to do handbrake turns and drifting because I really, really wish I knew how!  The Viking won’t teach me for some bewildering reason.

Of the three times(!) I had to trek to the Front Door this week, two times were because the Religiously Active are apparently concerned about The State Of My Soul and which direction I will be heading immediately after my death.  The first visit was from two little old ladies that were so sweet I couldn’t be rude.  I took their pamphlet and smiled and wished them a wonderful day.  I put the pamphlet directly into recycling without reading what would be involved in saving my soul.

The second visit from the Religiously Active was a sweet old man with very short arms.  I don’t know why his arms are so short because while I was running through a mental list of all the possible reasons his arms could be so short he became less sweet and more Inquisition-y.  I told him I already had the pamphlet he was showing me and he didn’t believe me!

“Oh reaaally.” He said slowly.  “Have you ever seen these two ladies before?  Are they from the neighbourhood?”  I think he’s been knocking on doors for far too long; there was definitely some bitterness there.

I hesitated.  It was like looking at a Bunnie that just bit me; it was so cute but it had big teeth!  And how should I reply?  With Sarcasm?  Condescension?  Belligerence?

I decided on the Carefully Neutral But With A Hint Of Sarcasm tone.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen these ladies before in my entire life.  Well, maybe I did before they got old – wrinkles sometimes change a person’s face – but I definitely haven’t seen them in the last decade for sure.  You aren’t going to make me go through my recycling bin for the pamphlet, are you?  Because I would really hate that.”

It was his turn to have a moment of indecision but eventually he said.  “Well, thank you for your time.  Will we be seeing you at our Memorial Celebration?”

“Probably not.  Have a lovely day.” I smiled kindly.

The third visit to my front door was Canada Post delivering a catalogue.  I really hate this kind of Summons because the Postal Person is already two houses down the block before I open the door so I’m forced to holler “THANK YOU!” and she just waves back at me.  That is an extremely unsatisfying interaction with another human being.  I like a “You’re Welcome” when I say “Thank You”.  It’s a start and an end.  Satisfying.  A backhand wave from half a block away isn’t the same thing at all and I don’t particularly like having to bellow my appreciation.  To add insult to injury the catalogue wasn’t even for me – which might have made up for the walk all the way to the Front Door.  But no, it was for The Viking.

Okay.  End of Pet Peeve Rant.

You have a weird look on your face.  Do you think I’m nuts?  Is it because you just haven’t thought about it or do you not mind people coming to your Front Door willy-nilly like there’s no order to the chaos in the universe?  Without order and rules we could be facing an onslaught of people knocking on Front Doors and running away like in the 1970s, and no one wants that, my friends.

So!  How was your week?

Thanks to Part-Time Monster for inventing and growing Weekend Coffee Share and Nerd in the Brain for hosting the event.  You guys are awesome.