There's a Fine Line

Call me crazy but when my doorbell rings, the thoughts “home invasion” and “serial killer” cross my mind. I guess I watch too much television. And then I call myself silly and open the door to find either friendly people inviting me to try their church, the Terminix guy, the boy scouts selling popcorn, girl scouts with their cookies, or the like. Tonight, the doorbell rang and it was Hunter, a friendly-looking friend I hadn't met yet interested in talking me out of my current television service provider.  When Hunter said the magic words, “this will save you money”, he had my attention.

I know you’re wondering why this is a problem. So, here we go. And I haven’t figured out the right answer so feel free to weigh in with what I should have done.

When Hunter rang my doorbell, it was 43 degrees out, which is cold in it’s own right, but somehow feels colder after the heatwave that was yesterday’s high in the 70s, . Hunter had on dress pants and loafers, gloves and a fairly fluffy coat. I was in sock feet and my standard work wear of black pants and a sweater. It was cold out. I felt sorry for him, walking around the neighborhood trying to make a living. Should I invite him into my warm and toasty house? Should I talk to him on the porch? I wasn’t sure what to do.

Hospitality says, “Invite the poor boy into the house before he freezes to death.” Safety says, “Don’t let a stranger into the house; you'll wind up dead.” I honestly didn’t know what to do. I struggled with it. I wanted to be nice but I also wanted to live to be nice another day. Hunter had a nice smile. I hear that Ted Bundy did too.

I stepped out on the porch to talk with him. I debated several times through our conversation about whether to invite him in or not. In the end, I stayed on the porch, in my sock feet, in the cold, feeling like I was overreacting to a threat that probably didn’t even exist.

Before he left, I tried to make it right by apologizing for not inviting him in. I told him that part of me felt like I was being rude and the other part felt like I needed to put safety first. He laughed and said he was from the South too and completely understood the fine line between Southern hospitality and personal protection. Then he said he wouldn’t have come in even if I had invited him. I didn’t ask if that was a company rule, his personal policy, or if he just decided that I have a Ted Bundy smile too.