I buy my baseball caps at yard sales and try to not pay more than a quarter of a dollar each. Most of them advertise beer or bars which make them not suitable for campaigning. I found and wore a black, vintage (Detroit) Pistons hat. It had Pistons written across the front in one inch tall, white letters. Simple. Professional looking.
Part of the gig is to ring the doorbell or knock on the door. Then step back so folks can peek through the window or blind to look you over, if that is their custom. Folks get nervous when the doorbell rings and they cannot size up their visitors.
Count to ten. Leave the literature if nobody comes to the door. Go the the next house.
An odd thing happened...
An odd thing happened at one house.
I knocked on the door. I stepped back. I saw a slight movement of the blinds, just the tiniest flutter as if a breeze had passed by. I watch through the pane in the door. A man walked to the back of the house and threw a window, a 30" wide by 24" tall window, completely open and then stepped away from it.
My ten seconds was close to up and I deduced that the people did not want to talk to me. I placed the literature and left.
Just to show how naive I am I first thought I had been mistaken for a returning husband. But why would a husband (me) knock on the front door?
I wish I had been paying more attention to sounds. I would not be surprised if there had been much flushing of toilets.
In the future
I don't mind if an unauthorized pharmaceutical outlet suffers some product losses due to highly strung nerves. In fact, it strikes me as kind of funny.
|Pistons. Police. It sucks to be dyslexic|
What won't be funny is if the "pharmacist" decides to follow Uncle Joe Biden's advice and start shooting through the door.
It looks like I better make some adjustments to my wardrobe.