Knock, Knock

Who's there?

So it's 5:45 p.m., and I'm wrapping up the work week -- trying to clean my email inbox before the weekend, as well as schedule an interview for one of my execs -- when I heard a knock at the door.

I opened the door, and an exhausted early 60-something man practically begged me to take his flier. Damn. I thought it was UPS with a nifty package in hand. Boo. At any rate, I felt cheated because the knocker did not put too much effort into selling me on attending his church on March 22 and April 6. He essentially said, "Please come to our church... The information... Is all here." I said thanks, and then he turned and walked down the stairs. Maybe he knew that I was not interested, but he felt that he still needed to complete the transaction. I do not know.

This is all very timely you see... Last weekend, the artist formerly known as ThumbSucker and I visited a friend's boyfriend's Napa weekend retreat. And one of the other guests was raised by his mother who was or is a Jehovah's Witness. He made a documentary on the practice of knocking. Look it up. Or if you want, come over, and we can watch it.

Regardless, it has been some time since I was knocked up.