I have heard that during the Depression, when lots of jobless men were out on the road, they would carve secret signs onto people's doorsteps letting other hobos know if the families in those particular houses would give them a handout or not.
Evidently I have a secret hobo sign for "Drunks Welcome" on my doorstep, because man, every drunk in the free world seems to show up at my door.
Case in point: Back in October, I wrote about the Halloween party I went to, and catching up with a guy I had briefly dated back in the day. On Sunday afternoon, I had just finished steam-cleaning the carpets (yes, AGAIN, because it is fun!), and I was just kicking back to watch some football, when there was a knock on the door. It was the guy from the party, drunk off his ass. He slurrily explained that he was visiting friends in the neighborhood, my name had come up (uh-oh), and his friends told him where I lived (THANKS VERY MUCH, GUYS. YOU ARE SO DEAD). So! He staggered over to say hello. I did invite him into the kitchen, and he tripped over the doorframe and almost fell. Good times! I explained that I had just cleaned the carpets, all the furniture was moved from the living room (sorta true), suggested that he stop back another time (oh please God no), and got him right back out the door. Bye-bye!
I have no idea why drunks think it's perfectly fine to just stagger by my place and say hello. BoyToy used to show up at my door at three o'clock in the morning, three sheets to the wind, and not understand why I didn't want to get up and party. Other acquaintances have shown up from time to time in similarly inebriated/incomprehensible/falling-down-drunk states.
I've gotta find that hobo sign and scrub it off the doorstep.