Jaci Dawn

I went to the dentist today. I’m getting new crowns but that isn’t very exciting. My mouth was very numb when I came home and I was thinking about what I might be able to eat for dinner. That isn’t very exciting, either.

I came in the back way, which brings me in on roads that Harvey & I walk. I was thinking about walking Harvey.

I noticed a Black man (read: man of African-American descent) standing in front of a house in the neighborhood. My first thought was, “Oh, new neighbor. Nice to finally integrate the ‘burbs!”

But as I drove by, I noted he was walking away from the house, carrying a bunch of bottles and a black satchel.

Oh. It’s door-to-door salesman season. Darn! I hate that. I hate turning away these young adults who are hired from somewhere in the Midwest and shipped out here to go door-to-door selling products no one wants. I think the companies that do that are preying on young people and ripping them off. I think the young men and women who get sucked up into that just want to do better but find themselves in an awkward situation, like this young man. He’s very Black in an almost All-White Suburb.

As I was still mulling that over, I pulled into my driveway and opened my car door.

This ebullient young woman with multiple face piercings danced (literally) off of our front steps and ran to meet me, her arms spread wide. “Can I be your Chocolate baby?”

I have to tell you, I laughed. I knew she was the partner to the man down the street, the other half of the door-to-door salesman team, but here she stood, acting like my new best friend.

“But I already have Chocolate babies,” I replied.

“I’ll stand up and sleep in the corner,” she shot back.

“My babies will be jealous.”

She pouted. “I’ll be hurt.”

She was so warm and engaging, gave me a high-five and talked like I was her best friend. “You look like a pale Halle Berry” she said.

“Liar.” But I laughed. And I asked her what her name was. Leslie. From St. Louis.

I asked her how she felt about being dropped off in a white neighborhood to go door-to-door. ‘I’m not intimidated by nothing.”

I admired her cool rubber boots.

“Got them at Fred Meyer’s,” she bragged. “And that dog down the street bit them!”

Yep, the neighbor’s Doberman bit her. She wasn’t much fazed by it, so I believe her: she’s not intimidated by much.

She bounced on down out of the yard like Tigger on a Very Blustery Day, waving good-bye and promising she still wanted me to adopt her.

Then I turned to my husband, who looked very sheepish. “I thought it was Chrystal at the door,” he said. She was about the same height and black hair. Said he opened the door and there she was, ready to knock.

“Surprised to see a Black woman on your door step,” she challenged.

“Uh, no.” He really wasn’t. He was just surprised she wasn’t Chrystal.

She sold him a bunch of cleansers.

I think I should have adopted Leslie on the spot.

I hope she makes a lot of money and the company that hauled her out here fulfills all their promises to her.

Leslie is a reminder to all of us: embrace life. Embrace challenges. Don’t be intimidated by anything. And ask complete strangers to adopt you.

(And they’ll buy anything, even cleansers they don’t want. I didn’t ask how much Donald spent… Sucker for a pretty face, that’s my husband!)