Creepy door-to-door sales and repairmen, episode 1

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We recently moved from a relatively hidden house in the woods, to a rental on a busy rural highway. There are many advantages to living on a busy road, not the least of which is that my friends actually stop by, since they don’t have to drive 10 minutes out of the way. OK, so I’m doing my housework in the back of the house, (yes, I was actually doing it) and I hear a knock on the front door, which is standing open with the glass storm door closed. I think, “Hey, one of my friends stopped by.” As I’m walking to the door, I look up, and see a skinny redneck, about 45 years old, with a straggly mullet standing at the door, smiling. Can I turn around, and pretend I didn’t see him? No. Can I slam the door in his face? It’s tempting, but if he is an ax murderer, I don’t want to make him mad. After all, he knows where I live.
Taking my chances that he’s a nice, mulleted redneck, as most of them are, I answer the door. Opening the door only a crack, I say, “Yes?” and he says, “We’re cutting trees, do you need any of these cut down?” First of all, there’s only about 5 trees in my yard, and 2 of them are apple trees. Second of all, I see a handicapped sign hanging on the rear view mirror of his rather small, dilapidated pick-up truck. (Ours is much bigger, which is very important in the South) Now, I don’t want to judge what kid of disability he had, and maybe he could’ve very capably cut down my trees, but it looked sort of fishy to me. So I immediately put a look on my face that said, “I’m nice, but don’t get too close, and if you mess with me, I will quickly turn on you!” Then I curtly said, “No thanks!”
As I was closing and locking the doors, all kinds of ominous scenarios went through my mind. He was scoping out whether my husband was home, and planned to come back and murder us with his chainsaw. He was seeing if we were out, so he could come in and steal our valuable jewlery and cash. (What jewlery and cash, you say? That’s exactly what we want you to think.) He wanted to come inside and try on my… OK, maybe not. Or last, and least-likely, he just wanted to make some extra cash, and sort-of-knows how to cut down trees.
Now, if my mom or husband reads this, they are going to be upset with me for opening the door to a stranger. (Strange being the operative syllable) But what do you do in these situations? You either have to assume everyone is an ax murderer, or give them the benefit of the doubt. It may be a little dangerous in today’s world, but I’d like to think there are still some nice, honest people in the world, however weird they are.
Tune in next time, when we find free lettuce being given out by the neighborhood alcoholic, while my husband just happens to be at work.