Salesman? Or ... murderer?

We need a new front door. Never mind why; it might be because someone accidentally positioned the sprinkler so that it soaked the whole front of the house and then went off to buy shoes or books or something, and when she came back (theoretically), the veneer was peeling in long strips off the existing front door.

Theoretically, that could have happened.

Or not. In any case, never mind why; just know that we need a new front door.

So a few days ago, Doug and I drove over to a windows and doors showroom. At first, we thought it was closed; there were no cars out front and the lights didn't appear to be on. But the door was open, so we went in.

A very very friendly guy came out from the back room. "Howdy, folks!" he said. "What can I do for you guys?"

He was blond and twinkly and had glasses and was wearing blue jeans. "We're looking for a front door," I said. "It's on your website. It's wooden, and it's made by Marvin Windows, and it's kind of a craftsman-like style, with six small panes of glass."

"Absolutely! Right over here!" the blond guy said. And he led us over to a door that looked absolutely nothing like I had described. The door he brought us to was all glass, with sort of bogus-looking leaded detail. It was not made by Marvin.

"Um..... no," I said. "That's not it. We're looking for a wooden door. With six panes of glass on the top half."

He looked crushed. He went back to his desk and picked up a Marvins catalog and riffled through it kind of half-heartedly. "You saw this on our website?" he said.

"Yep."

He gestured toward his computer. "See if you can find it," he said.

So Doug sat down at the salesman's desk, and after a few minutes he found the door.

The blond guy peered at the screen as though he'd never seen such a thing before. "Oooh, that's a spendy door," he said. "A door like that could cost .... a million dollars!"

I looked at him. "Well, if it does, we don't want it," I said.

He laughed merrily. "I might be exaggerating. My wife says I do that a lot. But that's a real spendy door. A nice door. You could spend--oh, twenty thousand dollars on a door like that. Depending on the wood."

Doug and I looked at each other. The website didn't give prices, but we are both pretty sure that the door doesn't cost $20,000. If it does, we don't want it.

The guy said he'd come out to our house on Friday morning and measure for the door. By then, he said, he will have done some research and would be able to give us more information--how much it really costs, for instance.

"We have a brass mail slot in our door now," I said. "Can you get one put in a new door?"

He looked dubious, then brightened. "I'll find out and tell you on Friday!" he said.

He gave us his card--he had to root around in the drawer for several minutes before he found it--and then we left.

On the way home, we talked about whether or not this guy could possibly be a real door salesman, and if he is, whether he could possibly really work for this particular showroom. Would a real salesman tell us that the door we were inquiring about cost a million dollars? And then follow it up with the suggestion that it might actually cost thousands of dollars?

The only thing we could come up with was this: The blond guy came to the showroom to murder the real salesman. He killed him in the back room. And then, just as he was about to make his escape, we walked in, and he had to pretend to work there.

There simply is no other explanation.

I'm looking forward to seeing if he actually shows up on Friday morning. And, if he does, whether or not he's armed.