No Soliciting. Yeah, I Mean YOU TOO!

so-lic-it  v  1. To seek to obtain; solicit votes 2. To entreat: importune.  3.  To entice; tempt [< L sollicitare, to disturb, agitate]

From the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 1970.



I ate a Jehovah's Witness for breakfast today.  It was his own, damn fault.  He tasted a little, underdone?  Maybe.

I didn't retire to get up early.  As a matter of fact, one of the few pleasurable things about my job, near then end, was that I could set my own hours.  And didn't mind hitting the streets a few nights a week, because that meant that the next morning, I could sleep in.  It's been one of my favorite activities since I was a child.

This morning at the ungodly hour of nine, freakin', thirty my doorbell rings.  My neighbors know my habits, so I'm thinking one of them really needs my help.  I grab a robe and run to the door.  Only to be greeted by a grandfatherly looking man in too much polyester, and a tie, who tries to hand me a magazine.

Big mistake.  Motherfucker is the nicest thing I called him.  I unloaded on this son of a bitch.  And I did it because I have a, "NO SOLICITING" sign on my front door.  So that allows me to bite his head off and shit down his neck.  Because he has been WARNED!  I do not wish to be disturbed, or agitated.

And I'm assuming he can read.  After all, he's handing out magazines, right?

Old people, and religious nuts seem to think they are exempt from the, "NO SOLICITING" sign.  Well, you're not.  I don't care if you're selling vacuum cleaners, frozen steaks or Jesus.  If I'm looking for any of those, I'll come looking for you.  Woe be unto you if you make me get out of my chair just to prove to me that you can't or won't read if I'm watching the Utes, or The Redwings.  I might answer that door with a gun.

There used to be this one old son of a bitch, who about once a month would drag his pith helmet wearing old head, up my stairs to ring my doorbell, and cut off a piece of an orange to try and sell me a bag of his oranges.  He wouldn't quit, no matter how many times I tried to nicely, point out my sign.  I finally had to chew him up and spit him out on Ernie's front yard, rather rudely, to get him to cut it out!

Then there was the guy with bad comb over (I know, bad, and comb over.  Under redundant, see: redundant) who came buy here twice in about two weeks.  The first time I was only mildly irritated.  I told him I don't give to religious organizations, and I had a, "sign" and I would like him to respect it.

But the second time he came I yelled at him so hard, he dropped his briefcase and got really nervous.  I'm pretty sure he thought I was going to hurt him.  I'm also pretty sure the money he was soliciting for some starving folks in Africa had about as much chance of getting there as he had of picking up chicks in a bar with that hair.

He actually said, "But I'm raising money for a religious charity" like that was some kind of, armour that would protect him from the, "NO SOLICITING" sign!  Ha!  My sign trumps your bullshit.  Every time.

Then there are the poor, misguided, Mormon Missionary's.  They have only come buy a couple of times since we have lived here.  I'm pretty sure that my attitude about religion has been spread to the local Ward House, and shared with these young men.

The last time was in the middle of the afternoon.  And I was doing something really important, like watching a, COPS rerun I've only seen 7 times, or something like that.  They gave me their little spiel, and I finally had had enough.  I didn't yell at them, I didn't get out of line, well, yeah I did, but I didn't go nuts on them.  I just very calmly said to them, "Boys.  You're wasting your life.  Go home, go to college where you learn HOW to think, instead of WHAT to think.  Have sex with some GIRLS.  Drink some beer.  Have a good time.  This should be the best time of your life, and you're wasting it."  And I closed the door.  They have not come back.

I'm pretty sure they were bearing their testimony to each other most of the night after that.  But lets face it.  If you're a really smart, young, Mormon guy you get sent to France, or China, or Peru.  If you're not too bright, you go to Seattle, or Alabama.  But if you're the dumbest Mormon in your South Dakota Ward?  They will send you here.  I always ask the Missionary's I see here, "Don't you ever feel like you're carrying coals to Newcastle?"  They never know what I'm talking about.


The last category of folks who don't read, "The Sign" are the dumb.  I don't know what this idiot was selling a month or so ago, but I opened the door, and he started in on his spiel, and I just pointed to the sign and said, "Can't you read?!"  He sashayed off the steps saying something about, "I CAN read, and it's not my problem.  It's YOUR problem if you..."  That's as far as this rat bastard got before I came unglued. 

By the time I walked this dumb ass down the driveway, he was about six inches tall and getting shorter, "Oh you CAN read, but you chose not to and bother me anyway you motherf*****!  You dumb son of a bitch who has never read a book with the word, "solicit" in it?  And then you claim it's MY fault that YOU annoyed ME?  You got some nerve you..."  And this went on  for a while.  He's never come back, either.

So, for anyone who doesn't know, because I'm nothing else, if not educational here at, The Truthstick, I'm going to explain the intricacies and boundary's of the, "NO SOLICITING" sign.  The subtleties, and when you can and can't knock on that door, if you're not a neighbor or friend, come to visit.  It's complicated, so you might want to get a pad and paper and take some notes.  Go ahead, I'll wait.

Ready?  Here we go.  If you are doing what you're doing to sell me something, whether it's raffle tickets, or Jesus.  If you want my money for any reason.  And you see a, "NO SOLICITING" sign on my front door?  Here is the first rule.

DON'T FUCKING BOTHER ME!  You are not exempt if you're doing it for a good cause.  You are not exempt if you are old.  You are not exempt, well, EVER!  I don't want to be bothered. 

Than ends today's lesson on the, "NO SOLICITING" sign.  There will be no end of class quiz.  But if you show up at my door for any of the above reasons?  You're going to know right away if you passed the class.  Trust me.