It's 9:30 am on January 3, a Saturday morning when anyone might reasonably be expected to be asleep. And the doorbell rings.
I throw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and go and answer it. A middle-aged (say 60s) are standing outside. She is clutching a book that looks unmistakeably like a Bible. He is the one who's rung the bell.
"How are you today?" he asks. Not *too* cheerful or energetic, but firm.
"It's a bit early," I say.
"Is it?" he asks unpertiurbed. "Perhaps another time, then." I close and relock the door. My friends upstairs, who live here, seem to have slept through the whole thing.
What struck me about this couple who I assume were here to spread "the Good News", is how completely bland and righteous they were, and how set in their conviction that they were doing a good thing. No apology for waking people up on a holiday Saturday, which would be the normal human reaction. I think it's that smooth, undentable exterior that makes them seem like aliens - or robots. Very strange.