Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

…in which Jehovah’s Witnesses and cold calling companies conspire to turn me into a crazed agoraphobic recluse

My phone phobia is well documented. I hate phones.

Top of my phone hates at the moment are cold calling companies trying to bam me up by spamming me up with a whole lot of phooey.

There was beloved old  “Kevin” from “Microsoft”; there was a call from Rapid Legal under the umbrella  of the “Ministry of Justice”; there was some random insurance vaguery…

As Lady Gaga said “Stop callin’, stop callin’”.

No really.

Stop callin’.

So, between spam calls this morning, I happened to look out of my window and saw four people standing in a wee cosy huddle.

Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated

Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The demographic was, I dunno, unlikely? They looked like a politically correct reprise of Mystery Incorporated or something.

Most striking was a young woman with beautiful and very long and very shiny ginger hair. There was then a young and very good looking black chap with a very cool hat. There was a young, coolly bespectacled, very trendy looking young man. Finally there was an older woman with blonde hair, very tidily done.

Their clothes were not work clothes – too informal – but they were anything but casual. They were that genre of clothes that I figure no one actually wears – quality and tasteful. They each had a big bag – but like tasteful versions each one suited to their own outfit.

They were gesticulating around the street in a strategic manner and then proceeded to go door to door in twos.

I then began to turn into the Hyde to my Jekyll and the Hulk to my svelte self.

Here I am minding my own business, tidying my own house and suddenly I am forced into an involuntary loop of embarrassment, unwillingness and resentment.

Do I open the door, accept THE WATCHTOWER and close the door? Do I give them benefit of my fast array of bible trivia? Do I tell them its so sad that they are trapped in a sect that they would find hard to leave based on a version of the scripture that their founder clearly messed with to suit his own theology? Do I invite them in, as I once did, only to have one of them dip into a diabetic hypo? Do I unplug my doorbell and hide in the kitchen until they have gone past?

If I go for the last option there, am I not passing up a perfect opportunity to present an account of the gospel according to a widely accepted version of the Scriptures, albeit without the quality clothing and messenger bag?

Today, I skulked in the kitchen. I didn’t answer my phone to the spammers and I didn’t open the door to the JWs.

I resented the fact that I felt annoyed by their intrusions. I object to being made to feel annoyed. My dander isn’t accustomed to being up – although this week has been a bit dandery, so it has.

I regret that I didn’t have the readiness to go through with any of the conversations offered to me today – I should at least give people the time of day – rather than having to check my windows and shuttle sprint from room to room to avoid people.

But I just couldn’t. Or just didn’t.

The JWs may well have been interested that I was reading Revelation 21 and 22 today.  Today is the end of the E100. Last time they called, I was about to start the passages on Moses.

As for the visions in Revelation: whether they are literal, metaphorical or whatever – they are a fascinating picture of the end times positively oozing with symbolism, warnings and hope.


I hope I don’t intrude on people’s plans to tidy their kitchens. I am happy to discuss life the universe and everything with anyone that wants to (how can I say that when I just bodyswerved the JWs?).  I suppose I am a hypocrite.



Enough of my hypocrisy. How do you react when you see JWs shuffling their tracts in your street? How do you react when the PPI man rings?


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7 thoughts on “…in which Jehovah’s Witnesses and cold calling companies conspire to turn me into a crazed agoraphobic recluse

  1. Many years ago, my TV was on the blink, and the repairman who showed up was a Witness. Suffice it to say that the repair took like three hours, pots of tea were consumed, and all because i was too polite to tell him to STOP (after all, he was charming and polite) For years afterwards, I’d come home to find “my” copy of the Watchtower waiting in my mailbox…

    • Now that might have suited me better as there was a valid pretext for the visit. I find they are always a bit vague on the point of their visit. Never once have they asked me to go anywhere, believe anything or do anything. It’s just to read the magazine which is such a shabby, dodgy looking 1970’s style thing. I read it and recycle it.
      I find some of the topics baffling. The oddest one was about coping with the menopause. I don’t remember that in the bible.

  2. I hide in between rooms waiting for them to leave and I have done this in New York, Blandford and Begles.:)

  3. My experience is that JWs are (generally) too unintelligent to have a reasoned and rational discussion of the finer points of interpretation of scripture with. If your opinion differs from that of the Watchtower, then you are wrong, and they’ll just repeat the same thing over and over again without even considering that they coud be wrong or that you could be right.

    Of course, there actually are a few instances where the JW translation of the bible is more accurate to the Greek than most modern ‘evangelical’ translations, so occasionally they can be ‘right’ where you might be ‘wrong’, but anyway…

    Mormons are a different story entirely, and are far more fun to get into discussions with. ;o)

    • The most dim JWs I met were in St Andrews. That was where the hypo occurred and I had to source some emergency biscuits. I felt sorry for them, faced door by door by total academic boffins.
      I would like to learn Greek and do my own translation. And I could have, I suppose. But… what if I had ended up with a degree in theology… oof.
      I don’t think I have ever met a Mormon.
      I like the choirs.

  4. If I see smartly dressed pairs of people coming down the road knocking on doors, I don’t answer the door when the knock comes on mine! I used to answer the door in the past, but just felt sorry for the poor JWs because they were just wasting their time with me. I have read enough Watch Towers so the best course of action is just to pretend I am not in!
    If a cold caller phones and asks for me by name I just tell them that I am not in! Sometimes they say they will call back, but often they just say thanks and goodbye. Works well for me. 🙂
    When a cold caller comes to the door and asks if I’m the home owner, I just say sorry, I’m just visiting, and they go off happily and apologise for bothering me. That’s the benefit of not having a Scottish accent and living in England! 🙂

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