The doorbell rang every few seconds, constantly.
The elderly homeowner, not known for having a happy disposition, finally staggered to the front door in pyjamas and dressing gown. He dragged it open slowly and found a young man holding up a leaflet. The local council elections had come around again and a number of enthusiastic volunteers were canvassing the neighbourhood. This particular caller was new to the work, but felt he could bring a new and refreshing slant to the way people are approached. He let the slim pamphlet flutter a little in the air.
“This leaflet is all you’ll need, to make the right choice!” he crooned, grinning big time.
The man scowled. “You woke me up for this?”
Undeterred and still grinning, the other said, “Absolutely, it’s vital that you are part of the decision process.”
“As I say, you woke me up,” he grumbled.
The other checked the time and raised an eyebrow, “Are you sick or something?”
“Not sick… but I have a condition.”
“Condition?”
“Yes, it’s called old age.”
The younger man scoffed. “Look, you can’t use that as an excuse, this election is important. We all have to pull our weight, you know?
The old man’s face was colouring up and his eyes began to water. “I… I…” he spluttered, too exasperated to form words.
“I’ll just leave you a leaflet then, eh?”
“No! I don’t want a leaflet.”
The young man looked amazed. “Surely, just taking a leaflet isn’t going to do you any harm.”
Pushing the door to, the old man said, “Just go away!”
The door slammed.
The volunteer waited a full minute before ringing the doorbell again and pushing a couple of leaflets through the letterbox.