When I lived in the East Village of Manhattan, I had two incidents with them in 30 years. Both times they were trespassing. I kept my voice law but read the riot act. I asked for the name of the tenant whose guest they were so I could call my neighbor and confirm that they were not soliciting. Where I live now in suburban PA, I had one knock at the door in ten years. Again, I live in a private complex with a sign, indicating it is public property.
I adore mass transit over driving (NY training) so I do see tables set up at bus terminals and train stations. They freak me out. The Witnesses are much older, black women, obviously without much money. Their dress, tho poor in quality, is immaculate. The problem is that all they seem to do is talk to each other.Someone could trash their table before they would notice. Their conversations are so intense it feels as though you need a tank to infiltrate.In my childhood days of going through POrt Authroity bus terminal in NY, they would smile at passerbys and engage in light conversation with strangers.
I wanted to make a comment about how I would have been chastised as a child to not hustle the product. There is admiration for them as individuals and also reuplsion. Rather than get trigerred about my long ago past, I chose to walk on and about my business. Field service seems to be make busy time.
On a very different note, I met a JW woman in the train station here. She was just going about her business. As we waited for the train, she engaged me in neutral conversation. We chatted. Next, the Witness sales bit. I told her politely that I had been a Witness and, while I respected normal Witnesses, I desppised the powers at Bethel. I was a very content Episcoplian but I felt there were many roads to God. Nor would I ever live in their theocracy. My statements were so plain and without rancor. The next day, she sent me a lovely but annoying personal, handwritten letter suggesting that she teach me my Bible. The hubris. Yet she put in authentic effort.
