Yesterday morning after getting home from work I tossed a couple of bags of groceries I had bought on to the kitchen counter and got ready to take Max for a run to the dog park. Just as I was about to leave I noticed a man across the street going from door-to-door. You’d think going door-to-door at a time when most are probably working would be a rather fruitless endeavour. To be honest, the gentleman might have might have been going to that particular house only. I didn’t wait to find out.
I just hate when people that I don’t know come knocking on my front door. Over the years we’ve had door knockers come to the house trying to sell everything, from security systems to siding for the house. Hey, don’t come to me. Leave a pamphlet and if I need your service I’ll come to you.
There certainly aren’t as many people coming to the door as there were when I was a kid. Hey, back then, doctors even made house calls!
I still remember the bread man and the milkman stopping by our house at least once a week. We had the milk chute by our back door that my mom would leave tokens in. The milkman would grab the tokens and leave the appropriate amount of milk bottles, which, in those days, were actually still glass! As kids we couldn’t wait for the milkman to come through the neighbourhood. Once in a while he’d give us all a small container of chocolate milk. The bread man would toss us some goodies from time to time as well.
Did you know that door-to-door salespeople are all graduates of the school of hard knocks?