Coulrophobia; The fear of clowns

We live in MK’s very first NO COLD CALLING zone and so now accept that we will never have people knocking on the door between October and about March or any other public holidays. I mention this because my wife earlier this year decided to prop up the local economy by employing a milkman after hearing his hard luck story of how he lives with a woman in a shoe, who has so many children that she doesn’t know what to do. I suppose it seems feasible enough, but since that time it has only ever been me, that is in when he calls for his money on Thursday afternoon.  At Tesco’s you can of course pay for milk on a credit/ debit card until the cows come home but this guy wants hard currency and used notes and often seems a little miffed if it isn’t available or you want things like change, etc. If this wasn’t enough another deal was struck with a couple of old soaks who are starting again on the bottom rung of the window cleaning business who come and clean the upstairs windows about twice a month. I have no idea what kind of sob story they were peddling, but it was probably something like they ran away from the circus to become window cleaners because they turn up with two long ladders and soapy buckets balanced on some pram wheels every time and often have difficulty in climbing, due to their unfeasibly large boots or because they have their red noses stuck in cans of lager! Of course I have seen nothing of any diploma, insurance documents or referral letters from their previous employ or DNA to validate their claims that they are in fact direct descendants of George Formby, and so are just a little bit suspicious that there might be an alternative motive to their first floor window washing. It has crossed my mind that they might be working undercover for Paul Simons gaining important information about soft furnishings and window furniture so that they can later fleece us blind, like venetians.