A canvasser came to our door last weekend to remind us to vote. B was out shopping. I answered the door. The canvasser rang the doorbell, then stepped back onto the walkway to talk to me.
When I opened the door and said hi, she answered, “Hello,” looked down at her clipboard, then back up at me and said, “Barb.”
I must have made a funny face or hesitated a moment too long, because she looked down at her clipboard again, then back up at me. “David?”
I nodded. “Yes, I’m David. Hi.”
She laughed a little nervously. “It’s all the hair, I guess.”
Okay, sure. I wear my hair long. I was also wearing a t-shirt, and my chest is flat as a board. Maybe that’s the problem: I need to work on my pecs.
This Is Drivel 