This is getting real old, real fast.

So it's Sunday and I'm killing time on the computer while the War Department and kids take naps. The doorbell rings followed by a sharp rap on the door (I hate when someone does that, what makes them so stinking important they need my attention NOW!!)

It's two guys, supposedly from Texas Utilities wanting to (once again) make an offer I can't refuse in these times of high energy costs. Both these bozos are in their twenties and well over six foot tall (I'm 6'3"). I feel better already.

For those who wish to seperate me from my money, here are a couple of tips;

1) Numbers don't scare me, two or more are fair odds in my book. Intimidate me some other way.

2) I like pushing the big guys around. Growing up I was always told to pick on someone my own size. That gave me a permanent guilt trip when dealing with shorter folk, and most men are shorter than I. Sending big guys to my door just irritates me. If you want sympathy send someone short. Short, geeky females trying to feed the starving children of Lower Slobbovia work best. I'm softhearted/headed to a fault.

So bozo #1 launches into his spiel about an offer too good to pass up and how so many of my neighbors are beating down the doors to take advantage of it. I cut him short with the following;

1) How come TXU always denies sending anyone door-to-door for deals like this? (He doesn't know anything about this.)

2) How come these two probably don't have the required permit for solicitation on their person? (They ask, "We need a permit?")

3) It's time for you guys to leave because this conversation ends like every other one I've had with guys just like you for the past few months, i.e. I'll be calling the city's finest to let them know two unauthorized solicitors are in my neighborhood again. (As they leave, bozo #2 tries to shake my hand and looks positively devastated when I just stare at him.)

I then follow thru on my promise to call the local gendarmes. They show up about 15 minutes later, inform me the bozos have left the area before they could be found. I promise the next time it happens to stall whoever is at my door by claiming to have something to take off the stove while I call our city's finest. The cop says, "That'll work!", thanks me and leaves.

But this crap is really getting old. Maybe I can provoke a fight next time (if they're bigger than I). The War Department warned me years ago that if I wind up in jail not to call her, I'll be on my own. Maybe she'll make an exception for this.