Once, several apartments ago, there came a knock at the door. We were sitting upstairs and could see through the window that they were carrying suspicious pamphlets - so with all self-respect we could muster, we quickly ducked out of sight and pretended we weren't home.
Thing is, the door wasn't locked, and apparently wasn't latched, because the door swung open the next time they knocked.
So they left. Without pulling the door shut. Good thing we were only pretending to not be home.
That story doesn't really have a point. Other than "who the hell does that?"
Also, there was a client at the group home who called them "door-to-door God salesmen."
This post quite possibly brought to you by the Vicodin that the dentist gave me.