Knock knock. Who's there?

Tonight a real estate agent came by to show my apartment. I'm not renewing my lease for the fall - which is five months from now - but realtors have been coming through our home for the past month almost daily and sometimes multiple times in a single afternoon. We can't seem to stop them, but I've started meeting them at the door (since they tend to walk in unannounced, even when we're home & no matter what we might be doing) and telling them to leave. Last week a strange man walked into my kitchen and saw me sitting at my desk, at which point I yelled, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" and then "I have an expectation of privacy in my own home!" I'm beyond sick of feeling unsafe even in my own bedroom. So when Will the real estate agent showed up tonight, I told him he could not wander through my apartment. This is my home, and you do not have approval to be here. You've already unlocked my front door; now lock it on the way out. Dude was at least a foot taller than me, which I'd like to once again point out is probably not even part of his consciousness. Don't hulk over me - get out of my fucking atrium. After he insisted, "I left a voicemail!" - which is certainly not permission to enter my residence - I shut the door and locked it after he finally moved out of the doorway. He shouted, "You could be nicer next time!" So I yelled back, "So could you!" Then I heard more from the stairwell, so I went into the hallway to hear him yelling, "See you soon, sweetie!" and "See you reeeeaaaaal soon!" Excuse me? Is that a threat? Because I like to use the phrase from the film, Swingers, "you don't know me; you don't know my address" - but in this case, that doesn't apply. In fact, you're threatening me in my own building, and you know exactly who I am and which unit is mine. You even apparently have a key to my fucking apartment. Writing down his plates and later locating his place of employment and semi-apologetic boss didn't make me feel much better. Tomorrow I'm calling the Greater Boston Association of Realtors - with whom I am quite sure this man is not affiliated due to his lack of ethics conduct - and then I'll move onto the MA real estate commission. You fucked with the wrong woman, sir, and this has already been one hell of a week. I wish for a world without violence, but I have an iron doorstop for a reason, and you'd better not set foot near it again. - Brittany