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.

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