1:45 p.m., Wednesday.
There's a sign for state Rep. Phyllis Kahn on the lawn on this quiet Seward street, but her political challenger pays it no mind.
"Hi there. My name is Mohamud Noor," he said, walking right up to the voter sitting outside.
"Yes, I recognize your face," Maggie Zoncki said brightly.
She is torn. She likes Kahn, a 42-year veteran DFLer in the state House. But she is interested in Noor's insurgent candidacy, too.
"She's a really nice woman, and I love what she's done, but I also believe in changing, and 42 years is a long time," Zoncki said.
She told Noor she will decide by Tuesday.
Noor passed more than a half-dozen campaign signs for Kahn. "The signs don't vote, it's the residents who are going be voting," he said.
Noor hopes these face-to-face pitches pay off at the polls Tuesday, when DFL primary voters will decide which of the two advance to the general election in one of the safest Democratic districts in the state.
Already, the House race has garnered statewide attention and carved divisions among Democrats.
For now, Noor and two campaign aides walk up and down residential streets off East Franklin hoping to catch someone, anyone, who is home. It is part of their final push to persuade voters to choose the unknown over the known.
Noor was appointed to the school board in January and heads the Confederation of Somali Community in Minnesota. He announced his candidacy months after Kahn had aided Abdi Warsame's successful bid to be elected as the first Somali-American on the City Council.
People tell him to wait for his turn, said Noor, who would work to improve early childhood education and close the racial "opportunity gap" if elected.
"So why do we have elections? Why don't we just wait for people until [it's] their time?" he asked.
Just across the river, four hours later, Kahn stands on a sidewalk in Prospect Park answering questions from a news reporter from Fox 9 News.
Was Noor an opportunist?
She said that he's already run for various offices — school board, state Senate — and "I've only run for one thing in my life. … I don't give up things that I've done just to do something else."
When the TV reporter tells her how interesting it has been to watch her in the Legislature, she said, "Just think how boring it would be if I wasn't there!"
Kahn highlighted some of her long-shot proposals that likely would never get introduced: "No 12-year-old voting, no cousins marrying, no legalization of everything."
She returned to door-knocking and addressed Noor's contention that he is more in line with the changing demographics of the district.
"He's Somali, and I'm not Somali, so he's obviously more in touch," Kahn said. "What I'm very proud of, of course, is the number of Somali supporters I have."
She guessed she has up to 30 percent of Somali support, while Noor contends his support is 95 percent.
At some nearby condos, she rapped on a door four times in quick succession.
"Hello?" a man's voice called from a screened upstairs balcony.
"Hello?" Kahn called back.
She stepped back to see him.
"Who's at the door?" the man called out, still a sight unseen.
"State Representative Phyllis Kahn."
"Oh! Phyllis! You got our votes. I'm so happy."