Magazines, Schmagazines

So after I ditched work early on Friday I was chillin' at the crib trying to get all my weekend stuff done early. I was on a call and heard a knock on the door. No one ever knocks on my door unless I know they're going to be knocking (except for Aaron and he was at work) so I was curious. Maybe it was a secret admirer? Maybe it was my Prince Charming arriving on his noble white steed? Hell, maybe it was Johnny Depp?

Turned out to be a dumb ass, stoned, rude magazine sales guy trying to sell me a subscription to Family Circle. Bummer.

First of all, I was on the phone and he just KEPT ON talking. Secondly, do I look like the Family Circle type!?! After I shot down the magazine he tried to get me to donate to St. Jude. I shot that down, too, cuz my roommate (Carrie) is an interior designer working on the Nashville St. Jude house in Westhaven so I'm already involved. The dude couldn't take no for an answer. He then proceeded to ask me if I smoked. Nope, sorry dude. So then he has the gall to tell me that he knew someone was smoking on my balcony and needed a cigarette. I can't just lie to the guy's face, so I let Carrie know there was a weirdo at the door who needed to bum a smoke.

I don't know what happened after that, but who walks up to a stranger's apartment (on the third floor) for their nicotine fix? He certainly wasn't selling magazines to anyone else. And that's baaaaad game.