A guy in a reflective vest carrying a clipboard walked up to my front door just now, rang the bell and stood there waiting. Apparently he didn’t see me lounging on the sofa, just inside the door.

“Hello?” I called to him.

He jumped back, startled. “Oh, hello!” he answered, and then waited for me to come to the door.

“Hi,” I said brightly, but very pointedly did not get up. I had my legs stretched out in front of me, my laptop on my lap and a cold beer in my hand, and I just KNEW he was going to try to sell me hardwood flooring or something else I didn’t want. It didn’t make sense to me that I had to get up from my very comfortable sofa just to pretend to be friendly when I was just going to have to say, No, thanks, I don’t want any siding, or whatever you’re selling.

“Um,” he began, before diving right in: “I wanted to apologize for the noise earlier. A lot of the people in the neighborhood were wondering what all that was about, so we’re going door to door …”

Oh, my. Had I misjudged this guy? Was I being rude to an emissary of goodwill?

“… and we’re just wondering if you’d like a free estimate on new windows and doors.”

No. No, I hadn’t misjudged this slimy snake-oil salesman, not one tiny jot.

I went back to surfing the internet. “Nope!”

“Oh.” He backed away from the door. “Okay.”

I didn’t look up as he turned and walked away.