Door of the Dead

By Ashley Lister

Like a lot of Blackpool locals, I’ve enjoyed some memorable experiences in doorways.

Some years ago, I remember examining a poorly constructed doorway in a new build house. I said to my wife, “These doors aren’t very well hung.”

She said something about the pot calling the kettle fat. Then she escaped into her own world of private mirth for an hour. I never did find out what was so funny about that doorway.

But, apart from that incident, I have to say that doorways have always amused me.

I once told my mother there was a man at the front door with a bill. She said it was probably just a duck wearing a hat.

Then there was the time I told my wife: “There’s a man at the front door with a bald head.”

She said, “Tell him you’ve already got one.”

Then there was the time I answered the door to a Jehovah’s witness…

True story.

I opened the door to a Jehovah’s witness. I guessed he was a Jehovah’s witness straight away. One of the main clues was that he was carrying a copy of the Watchtower. One of the second clues came when he opened his mouth:

“Did you know a man his risen from the grave to save your soul?”

Those who know me will be aware I’m not particularly quick-witted. I’m the sort of person who will think of a smart thing to say maybe a week after it’s happened. Sometimes a month. But on this particular day I was caffeinated.

The Jehovah’s witness has said to me, “Did you know a man his risen from the grave to save your soul?”

I stared at him aghast. “Do you mean zombies?”

He took a step back and frowned. “No. Not zombies.”

“Zombies?” I repeated, managing to inject a tone of wild theatrical panic into my voice. Just to give my performance a realistic touch I cast my unsettled gaze up and down the street. “Are the zombies coming? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“No. No. No.”

He looked quite sorry for having distressed me so severely. I was busy trying not to pee myself at his concern.

“There are no zombies. I’ve just come here to talk to you about the bible.”

Now, if this was a good anecdote, I’d finish it there, or make some pithy observation about the relationship between believing in zombies and believing in religion. In truth, I shook hands with my new Jehovah’s-witness-friend, apologised for making a joke at his expense, and wished him luck in trying to win support for his religion amongst the local community.

And you might be asking, other than this occurring in a doorway, what does this have to do with this week’s theme?

And I have to answer, it’s much more appropriate for public consumption than some of my other anecdotes about the things I’ve done in doorways.