Even Jesus Should Call First

Just after I got out of the shower this morning someone knocked at the door. I could see the silhouette of a tallish-looking guy and thought it might be a deliveryman of some sort. Sure, cue the porn music. Chicka bow chicka bow wowww...

I cracked open the door to what looked like a TV detective – an older, tall black man in a trench coat – and of course my first thought was that he was here to ask me questions about someone I know about some alleged crime.

Nope. I was being invited to celebrate the birth of Christ. I said a hearty NO THANKS! standing there in my bathrobe with my hair wrapped up in a towel. Does this look like a good time to hand me an invitation? He and his friends immediately got the hint and wandered down the porch, leaving the screen door wide open.

They lingered half-way down the steps, chatting about something, when I yelled through the window, JESUS CHRIST, CLOSE THE DOOR! They closed the door and lingered no longer.

What kind of self-proclaimed Christian shows up unannounced and when he sees the woman of the house is obviously not prepared to talk about a party for Jesus, starts in on his unwelcome message anyway, then leaves the property without closing the damn door behind him? That tells you right there he's full of shit.