“Hang on… hang on, I’m coming…” I said cinching the towel around my waist, water dripping on the carpet.
The knocking was incessant. This had better be an emergency.
“What is it?” I asked, swinging the door open in annoyance, ready to punch whatever insurance salesman it was that thought it necessary to interrupt my shower. I immediately realized that the person on the other side of my threshold wasn’t trying to sell me insurance at all.
“Look,” I said abruptly, looking down into the face of the teenage girl “I’ve already bought cookies this year. Check again next year.” Then I started to close the door.
She pushed against the door. “No. Wait. I’m not selling cookies…” she looked up at me with eyes that were as big as eyes could get without looking freakish. “Tim, I… I… need your help….”