I can't make this up: Just Say "Go Away"

Here's a little thing that happened to me that I'll tell in a narrative.

***

Over the course of a young man's life, he will end up doing things that are somewhat out of the ordinary. This summer, a particular young man found a job working as a canvasser for an environmental organization in his locale of Long Island. As a canvasser, his job is to go to various neighborhoods on the so-called Long Island, and fund raise for the non-profit organization he works with- essentially begging for the sake of his organization and the environment.

In the summer heat and humidity, the young man diligently does his job. The young man does his job because he morally and ethnically agrees with his organization's purpose and goals- he is willing to suffer the embarrassment of begging openly for them. He covers about 100 houses a day, knocking on doors and ringing doorbells from 4 o'clock until 9 o'clock every weekday. He implores those who answer these doors about the dangers of some carcinogenic chemicals in pesticides, the high exposure to toxic fumes from diesel school buses that the children inside are subject to, the millions of dollars taxpayers can save if their local municipalities just made some simple changes in terms of energy use, etc. Most of the people he encounters throughout the day aren't willing to help and send him on his way briskly. There is also a handful of people who do contribute and display a legitimate interest in the issues the young man is fund raising for, these people make the thank-less job worth it for the young man. Finally, there are an even smaller handful of people who will go to elaborate lengths to avoid the young man- this narrative is about two such individuals.

On this particular summer day, the weather was the worst kind for a summer day on Long Island. The bright sunlight lit the hazy and humid air as temperatures remained over 100 degrees Fahrenheit well until 7 o'clock in the afternoon. The young man was soaking in sweat after walking around in such weather for the past couple hours. His socks, his shorts, his shirt, even the brim of his baseball cap were completely saturated. He did his best to keep cool, dry and hydrated as he went door-to-door.

The young man found himself standing in a picturesque suburban neighborhood in a village called East Moriches, Town of Brookhaven, Suffolk Country, New York, United States of America, Planet Earth, Solar System, Milky Way. Using his powers of observation, the young man concluded that the neighborhood was a fairly new neighborhood since the trees on the houses' lawns were merely sapling and the houses looked new. It was about that time of day that the insects began to come out and prey on whatever unfortunate souls that were still outdoors. Optimistically, the young man headed to the first house on the street in hopes of getting donations from like-minded individuals.

Unfortunately, the first few houses on that street did not harbor any like-minded individuals. Like he had been many times before, he was briskly sent on his way. He was undaunted- there had to be at least one person to make this particular street redeeming for the young man's efforts. The young man didn't know that he was mistaken.

He came upon house built in the style of a seaside colonial- it was the second-to-last house on the street. He found the walkway leading up to the front door. He could smell the chemical fertilizers on the lawn of this house and immediately began to have his doubts about this particular household.

Once at the front door, the young man pulled out his handkerchief from his back pocket and quickly dabbed the few beads of sweat that have accumulated on his forehead. He quickly composed himself and decided that he'd talk about his organization's efforts to save tax-payer dollars by implementing clean energy measures on the municipal level. He rang the door bell. A minute passed without an answer.

"No one must be home," he thought. He made a note of it on his clipboard and turned around to head towards the next house.

As he was walking back down the path, he heard the door open. He turned around to see if anyone was at the door. To his dismay, no one was there.

The door of the household was wide open; the inside of the house was dark. The young man stood wondering how the door opened when he watched the door close itself in a ghostly manner. To the young man, this didn't make too much sense. Although he does fleeting believes in the supernatural, there was no reason why a home would be haunted in a young neighborhood. As he stood there contemplating what was going on, he watched the door as it opened itself again, this time swinging wide open.

The young man decided to leave that house be and continued walking. Once he got off the house's property, he looked back to see the status of the door. In the doorway, he saw another young man- no a boy- shirtless with a hood over his head, prancing around in hopes to scaring the young man.

A small smirk materialized on the fringes of the young man's lips. "How idiotic," the young man thought. This wasn't worth the young man's time or efforts. The young man kept on walking away from that house as the boy at the doorway.

"My luck's been terrible so far, maybe it'll change at this next house- the last one on this street," he said aloud to himself, trying to keep himself company. The young man would find out that he was mistaken.

As he walked towards the next house across the street from the house with the boy with a keen interest in spooking the young man with supernatural shenanigans, the young man tried to compose himself. It hadn't gotten any cooler, it was still humid, and piping hot outside despite the sun beginning to make its descent towards the horizon. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his handkerchief, now thoroughly saturated from his sweat, and dabbed his forehead and nose. He saw beads of moisture collecting at the brim of his baseball cap. As he walked across the street, he took off his hat and shook it off and watched the sweat from his cap splatter across the pavement. From his backpack, he pulled out a water bottle and took a couple mighty gulps of lukewarm water.

The house across the street was a large, white, ranch-style home- it didn't have a tree on its property as far as the young man could see. The wide driveway of the house had a compact BMW car parked outside the double garage. The lawn was nicely manicured and the scent of pesticides was strong. The young man decided not to mention his organization's activism against pesticide use on Long Island as a result of his observation.

Once at the doorstep, the young man took a second to review his notes and compose himself. Just as he was about the ring the doorbell, he heard the boy from across the street. "Ahh! You Chinee?!" the boy said in a terrible excuse of an Asian accent. The young man turned to see the boy was now outside on his porch prancing around without his hood. He briskly turned around and decided to ignore the boy. Frankly, he couldn't believe that he was being heckled of all things.

The young man quickly recomposed himself. He rang the door bell. Silence.

“Bwakaa! Cluck, cluck, cluck…” The boy across the street was now flapping his arms around and parading himself around his porch like a chicken, desperate for some sort of acknowledgement of his taunting. “Heh, kid, if you want me to acknowledge your taunting, you’re gonna end up an emergency room- I assure you,” the young man thought to himself.

Just as the young man was about to leave, he saw the doorknob of the white ranch jiggle and the door opened.

“Arf, arf, arf, woof, grrrr, arf, arf! Arf, arf, arf, woof, grrrr, arf, arf!” It was a rather quiet but consistent sound of a dog. The door was wide open, and in the doorway, there was a heavy-set, old woman with gray hair, large wire-framed glasses and a flower sundress. She didn’t open her glass-screen door.

“Bwakaa! Cluck, cluck, cluck…” the boy continued across the street. “Arf, arf, arf, woof, grrr, arf, arf…” the sound of the dog continued. The young man decided to give his rap a shot.

“Hi, my name is-”

“I’M SORRY, I HAVE A HUGE DOG INSIDE, I CAN’T KEEP HIM DOWN,” the old woman yelled through the screen door.

“Bwakaa! Cluck, cluck, cluck…” the boy continued across the street. “Arf, arf, arf, woof, grrr, arf, arf…” the sound of the dog continued.

The courteous smile turned into a hanging jaw on the young man’s face. The young man thought for a second, looking at the old woman incredulously. “A dog? You don’t have a dog lady; you’re playing a recording- A DAMNED RECORDING! How dumb do you think I am? Your door’s wide open, and if you had a dog, it would have been barking as soon as I pressed the doorbell. Really, what the hell!?” The little man inside the young man’s head was frustrated and ranting at the moment. The young man was simply dumbfounded.

“Bwakaa! Cluck, cluck, cluck…” the boy continued across the street. “Arf, arf, arf, woof, grrr, arf, arf…” the sound of the dog continued.

The young man finally snapped back into reality after having absorbed what was going on. He quickly put his smile back on, tucked his clipboard under his left arm and began to walk away briskly.

“Thanks anyway, ma’am,” said the young man trying to be as polite as he possibly could given the circumstances. The old woman closed the door behind him. The barking immediately stopped.

“Bwakaa! Cluck, cluck, cluck…” the boy still continued across the street.

“Jesus, this street’s not going to help me out tonight- screw it!” the young man said to himself almost despondently. He still couldn’t believe the responses of the last two houses he visited- never had he expected to find people actually go to such lengths to avoid him. “Screw a donation! You could have let me at least inform you about what I’m about and tell you a little about the issues that you might care about because they affect you!” The young man said aloud to himself. He briskly made it to the cross street- the end of the road.

The young man turned and looked back upon the street that he had just been on. Down the street, he saw a couple houses with their sprinklers running, a little girl in a pink tutu was running around on her nicely manicured lawn, the boy that was clucking finally gave up and disappeared inside. The sun inched its way towards the horizon, the mosquitoes and insects were out in fleets, the young man’s hat and shirt were drenched in sweat and felt slightly dizzy as he was slowly dehydrating.

“All you guys needed to say was a simple ‘no thanks’ or ‘go away.'” The young man turned the corner leaving that street behind him.

***

I wish I was making this up, but this is 100% true.

In disbelief in the state of humanity,
Greg