Someone rang the front doorbell yesterday afternoon.

Now this is unusual, as the only people who use the front door are the postman [if he has a parcel] and the meter reader.  In true country tradition, everyone else calls around to the back door.

So I lightly tripped through the house [I was in a good mood for a change] with Penny at my heels and I opened the front door.

There was a bloke standing there with a bunch of leaflets with "Labour" written all over them.  There was a woman hovering in the background standing in a large piece of dog shit.  Did I ever mention that Penny loves to dump her loads directly on a line between the gate and the front door?

"Hello" says the bloke.  "I'm hoping I can count on your vote for Labour next week?"

I hadn't said a word up to then so I thought that was a reasonable tactic and a good way to continue.  I didn't flicker.  I just stood there with a smile on my face staring at the bloke and he had to stand staring back at me.  He looked very uncomfortable, which suited me fine.

After about thirty seconds of this he plucked up courage to ask if I had any questions.  That was a foolish move.

"Indeed I do" says I cheerfully.  "Can you tell me why the hell I should vote for you lot when you broke every fucking promise and cheerfully hopped into bed with another party?  Why should I vote for you lot with your water charges, your property tax and your incessant nagging at me how I should lead my life?  In fact, tell me why I should give a shit about you lot when you lot obviously couldn't give a shit about me?"

Bloke shifted very uncomfortably on his feet while I resumed my smiling stare.

"Er, um" says he.  A few seconds passed.  He [very] nervously held out a leaflet, which I ignored.  "I can't persuade you then?"  Boy but this lad was perceptive!

"Git" says I, "before I set the dog on yiz".

He gitted along with his companion.  I noticed he stepped in another large turd in his haste.  Penny places her dumps very strategically.

My good mood improved exponentially.


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On the hustings — 16 Comments

  1. Vote Number 1 Penny, and give your second preference to the Independent who seems most likely to be eliminated after the first count.

  2. Even in your senior years Grandad, I imagine you have the capacity to conjure up a mood of impending violence for the unwanted attentions of the vested interest !

    • In a moment of confrontation the best thing to do is smile.  Scares the shit out of the opponent.  Add to that my height at over six foot, the fact that I look younger [thanks to the relaxing pipe] and that my hair [and beard] haven't been cut or combed for a while, I imagine he would have second thoughts at having an argument?

  3. snicker…well done Penny. You use the same tactic my Mr. uses when they call, just quiet and smile till they hang themselves by asking do you have any questions.

    • Our Penny is very much SBD [Silent But Deadly].  She doesn't bark much, just leaves her turds for people to step in.  They're like her farts.

  4. Thanks much, Grandad. I really needed the chuckle your post here gave me. I was able to construct a clear mental picture (video?) of the entire episode–including the turds.

    • I did think a while ago about installing a security camera [but didn't bother].  It would have come in handy?  Though on second thoughts, they don't have sound so you'd have missed the juicy bits.

  5. Good point about rural front and back doors. Our postman knocks on the front and gives you the parcel at the back. Some front door knockers are breakdowns or lost. However there is a good chance they will be chuggers – do you get those in Ireland?

    • There is a simple rule with  the postman [mutually agreed].  If he has a parcel and the car is in the garden he leaves the parcel in the window-box.  If there's no car he drops it around the back.

      There a few houses here so I never get the lost or the breakdowns [I get a load of the lost if I am working out on the road though.  I send them up to the Bogs.]  Mercifully we are too remote for chuggers, and the only charity knockers are local kids looking for sponsorship and they soon learned their lesson.

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