Start your day off the holy way!

Nothing like a doorbell ringing to start your day, I thought to myself as I threw on my bathrobe and trudged to the door.

I thought too soon.

It was a Jehova's Witness. He didn't need to tell me. I spied by my little atheistic eyes a bible under his right arm. But that wasn't the dead giveaway, I still would've known this minion had he been without his holy book. The blue blazer with gold cufflinks and buttons. I know you. You do not come to my door dressed like that unless you are looking for a fight. Especially this early in the morning. Shouldn't you still be in your pajamas praying by your bedside for all the food in your belly? No? Well howabout praying that you get off my stoop alive.

"Good Morning, Miss." Starts his speech, "Glorious day, no?"

I cross my arms and begin resting comfortably to one side. This is going to be a long morning. I nod, unimpressed, as if silently saying to continue on with your contagious religious spew about how I need to accept Christ as my personal savior.

"Do you go to church, miss?"

"For weddings and funerals...well, I guess those two are pretty much the same thing, nowadays." (I haven't accepted marriage as my personal savior, either.)

He sneered at me. And continued right along with his 'join our cult' speech. He talked for about five minutes straight when a gurgling, empty stomach began begging for the breakfast sausages I got two for a dollar yesterday caused him to suddenly stop talking. "Listen," I interrupted him, "You woke me up. You're talking about Jesus, so right off the bat, I don't like you. But I'm hungry. And I don't want to be rude, so if you are so worried about saving my soul all in time for lunch, you are not going to. However, if you are hungry, I will make some breakfast sausages for the both of us. What do you say?"

He stood there, thoughtfully for a moment. "While that offer is extremely tempting," He paused and rubbed his belly, "I must be off. I have more houses to visit and souls to save."

"God Speed." I bid him off and closed the door behind him.

As I began slow-cooking my breakfast sausages, I watched him as he walked down the street, up the stoops of my neighbors, and got the door slammed in his face repeatedly. He should've known better than to come down Agnostic Lane. I felt sorry for him and promised myself that I would never get into the retail business. I hear the commission sucks.

Invite 'em in for breakfast!