I was sitting in my living room this morning, catching up with some of my favorite blogs. I looked out the front windows and I could seem them walking on the sidewalk...both of them...not the blogs...the men (I suppose I could go back and reconstruct that last sentence to clarify the statement, but hey...ef off).
They both wore black business suits with black ties and carried black business briefcases. Nothing says serious business like black business suits...and ties...and briefcases. There is no question that Levi jackets and cut-offs simply would not quite convey the seriousness of their seriousness business. "Appearance is everything" I once heard a business assholeo acquaintance of mine say. Although in my case I might have handled the entire incident in a different way had at least one of them been dressed in desert garb and sandals. Now that would have told me that this visit was REALLY serious!
Instinctively I knew...KNEW where the suits were headed.
One was about 18, the other in his mid-forties...probably training the young one in the business. Obviously attending to business...and...I...knew...WHAT...business. The BeJesus business...the BeJesus Jehovah Witnesses business. Yes...headed straight for...ME.
Obviously other black business suited JWs did not make a note about the argumentative occupant at this address...not to mention his disdaining snarl when opening the door to unsolicited solicitors...and black suited BeJesus tormentors. I know this, because they continued right up my driveway.
And they banged on my door, despite the doorbell button right in front of them. This was the moment of truth. This was an old refrain for me, I had been here before...many times. Usually, I open the door with the unrestrained snarl mentioned above, bowed up in the most intimidating shape I can muster, and yell, WHAT? And then they start their serious BeJesus business patooey. Something about, have I thought about eternity...and my soul...and all that good shit (shit being my word). And then the game is, I respond with...no, I am Jewish and we eat gentile babies in the basement of the synagogue on Friday nights just before the sabbath on Saturday...in lieu of fish. Are you offering up any babies...this is my week to scrounge up some? Of course, this usually ends the "conversation" and they back the fuck off.
Score one for evil oldish men.
It is immaterial that I am not really Jewish, nor do I eat babies in synagogues or elsewhere. The lie does get the job done that I need done...that is, it gets their asses out of here quickly...and I appear to be someone who COULD do these things. Appearance.
But today, I was in a non-confrontational mood. Not to mention it occurred to me a while back that basically all I have been accomplishing is to expand my blood pressure to the dangerous end and could possibly have a ferking stroke right there in the doorway, with the BeJesus boys praying over me. Score one for BeJesus.
So, I let them bang. I could hear them mumbling with one another (sacred mumbling with BeJesus, no doubt) and then the screen door open. What the ef, are they going to try the door? They didn't. They left a hand-out.
Later, with my BP right there where it needs to be, I opened the door and retrieved the hand-out. It was a folded piece, only half letter size, with a picture of gentile BeJesus and a very Republican looking preacher on the flip side. In the old days, back when I first made up my Jewish persona, they would hand out the Watchtower, which was several pages, full letter size, explaining the whole BeJesus thing.
I suppose the recession has affected even the BeJesus boys...or so it appears.
BTW, we know this is BeJesus because he has on flip-flops.
Yes, I did crumple it up at first, but a mysterious force caused me to straighten it back out and share it with you. I don't know what came over me. You have to admit though, it does look a little like a pizza. I'm thinking eBay.