What is it about a large sign saying “No canvassers please” that canvassers fail to understand?
Having unsolicited people knocking at your door is annoying at the best of times, but when you’re in the middle of changing a nappy, taking a phone call or, dare I say it, actually trying to get some work done, it’s a downright pain in the backside.
I’m convinced they lie in wait, peeping behind your curtains for the most awkward moment possible before marching up your path to ring the dreaded bell.
It would of course be mildly less aggravating if my unsolicited visitors were actually calling about something useful or relevant to my existence. But they’re invariably recruiting for the Salvation Army, Jehova’s Witnesses or the Seventh Day Adventists. And when I tell them I’m not interested I have no idea why they look at me with such pity, because it’s certainly not me who needs rescuing.
On the rare occasions when my unwanted callers are on a non-religious mission they are either flogging random stuff from household catalogues, canvassing for the Monster Raving Let’s Make the Country Bankrupt Party or delivering luxury parcels for my next-door neighbour who is too busy having her vajazzle done to wait in for her latest delivery.
To really rub salt into the wound, the only person who ever knocks on my door with anything I actually want is the Amazon delivery driver who unfailingly waits until I’m out to do so. And so it is for these reasons that I hereby sentence all canvassers, fundraisers, delivery men and Avon ladies to an eternity of knock-down-ginger in the slimy cesspool that is Room 101.