Who Are These People And What Do They Want With Me?

This morning, at ten minutes after 9, I shuffled and stumbled into my office to use the computer, look at the internet, and read emails. I took a sip of strong coffee and tried to get my eyes to focus.

I was marginally hung over, having done just a bit of medicinal boozing last night while talking on the phone with my girlfriend after my husband left for a trip.

The office looks out on the street and the front porch. Almost as soon as I sat down, I heard somebody coming up the stairs and I looked out the window. There was a nice looking Hispanic man wearing a suit walking up with a young Asian woman in a floral dress. Since there are lace curtains in the office, I could see them, but they couldn't see me.

For must a moment I thought they might be homicide cops, but then realized they were too well dressed. Also, all the women cops I know wear pants when they are working, not flowered dresses.

The couple knocked at the front door, incurring the wrath of Terminator and Rambo, (actually Harry and Honey), my pit bull welcoming committee. While they were standing there looking a little nervous because of the hounds from hell, I noticed that about seven or eight more people had gathered out in front of our house.

These people were dressed elaborately for early on a Tuesday morning. One woman was wearing a sort of African looking turban, and the men were all in suits and ties. Then I noticed the "Watchtower" pamphlet in one man's hand.

I tried to quietly shush the dogs, because obviously I could not go to the door with my hair sticking up on top of my head, mascara smeared under my bloodshot eyes, a boob falling out of my not-too-clean nightgown, and looking like a total sinner in need of redemption.

Pity, if they had come at noon, I would have taken a brochure, smiled, and then felt guilty when I threw it away without reading it.