So, this man comes to the door at 12:11 a.m., knock knock.
In a nice overcoat, knock knock.
Silly us, we have the TV on, knock knock.
Go to door, you never know, knock knock.
Line: "I'm a minister; I'm from the church at the hospital"
Response (partial; loud): "Dude, I don't care who you are, look at what time it is."
Man goes, quickly, gets into silver two-seater's passenger side, leaves, does not ask any other neighbors for "shelter."
They say you shall not know Jesus when he comes / shall reject him. I know the Beatitudes, but my attitude is one of self-preservation.
(Last time a man came to here thusly, he was wearing childish clothes; by that I mean he had a sports jersey and cap and something like a pipe or bat.)
I mean, come ON, people!
(I'm up right now because the neighbor went off somewhere on her moped. You know how loud those are. I think she must have some kind of masochistic thing going; isn't it very cold outside right now? Or she's getting donuts and not bringing me any — she will be back around 8, I assure you, waking me up again; weird people have weird hours and jobs.)