Before I moved I used to get door-to-door-damnation people (Mormons, JWs, Girl Scouts, and other cults that make their adherents solicit tracts) despite the 'No Soliciting' signs on the door. Mostly I'd ignore them and after a while they would go away--sometimes it would take a long while, because those are some persistent fuckers--but sometimes they were taking way too long or I felt like being a bitch and I'd answer the door and torment them for giggles.
Hey, if you want to interrupt me at home to sell me something I neither want nor need when I would rather be doing something worthwhile and productive (like masturbating or clipping my toenails with pliers), then I am entitled to be as much of a bitch to you as I want. At least the crazy guys shouting on street corners have the decency not to interrupt people at home.
And also Girl Scouts have cookies and that shit is crack cocaine.
Sometimes I would pretend to speak another language. Or play really dumb and make them repeat themselves over and over again. Or ask really horrid questions that had nothing to do with religion and made me seem like I might be dangerous or mentally unstable. (Perennial favourites were, 'So how do you get blood stains out of a shower curtain?' or, 'Does anyone besides me hear those voices chanting?') Once I pretended I was going to sacrifice my mom's dog.
But the most fun one was the time I answered the door topless for Mormons.
I saw them in their suits and ties and nametags peddling their bikes up the incredibly steep hill outside the neighbourhood so I had some advance warning they were coming around. They were two guys, and they were both quite young--eighteen, maybe nineteen, but no older than twenty--and I know enough people brought up Mormon to safely assume they were going to be really naive and probably not have seen a naked woman before. So I watched and I waited and when they knocked on the door I took my shirt off and answered it topless.
I'm actually quite comfortable being topless in front of other people so it wasn't a big deal for me. But it was a big deal for them! They didn't even manage to ask me if they could talk to me about Jesus. They just trailed off halfway through and stared. I asked them if I could help them with anything. They just stuttered out a 'SORRY TO BOTHER YOU, MISS!' and went back to their bikes. If their eyes got any wider, they probably would have just fallen right out.
It was a glorious moment of PWNAGE and I like to think I did them a favour--it's not like they were going to see any real-life boobies until after they were married, and still probably not even then. (That's what the Magical Mormon Undies are for.)
This was years ago and I still think those boys aren't completely sure what it is they saw.
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