When I was growing up jokes about door-to-door salesmen were a big thing. This was way before telemarketers or email spam and I would have to say that I doubt most modern citizens are brave enough for sales the old fashion way; what a tough job! I will add that we lived so far out in the country when I was a kid that even the religious recruiters skipped us. I don’t know if it was the gauntlet of mixed breed mutts they feared running as much as just the sheer ground they would have to cover for their “magic one percent”, but either way, salesmen of this breed were (to me) simply a myth.
Things were a little different when I moved to town. I thought of this last week when out of the blue, in the middle of a weekday, my doorbell rang. When I looked through the front door sidelights I realized that one of the effects of my new deer fence was that I would now have to receive guests without first taking a look at the face that pressed the doorbell. Maybe I need a peephole because I don’t blame anyone for not opening a gate that bears a picture of a hand with electric lightning bolts emanating from all four sides! So I took a deep breath, assumed my very best “what the hell do you want face” and blindly opened the door.
The man standing in the garage was very well dressed; he wore a white shirt, dress pants and a nice tie. He had a big smile on his face…and a brightly colored pamphlet in his hand. He quickly said hello and gave me his three sentence pitch before I had a chance to utter a sound. He closed with “have a nice day” and turned to head for his car. Wow! How times have changed; no questions; no riddles and no pressure! As he drove away I almost felt sorry for him…almost. This was certainly not a group that I was used to seeing “phone in” a sales opportunity and it made me think of how different it was from my first experience.
I have to say that I don’t spend wasted energy hating on any group of individuals. If you don’t pound me and actually listen when I say I’m not interested, I’ll be polite too. But when I first moved to town for college, I had a door-to-door group that was in dire need of a little of my free training. They came every Saturday morning at 8:00 am and knocked on the door until someone responsed. I’m not really sure what compelled either me or my roommate to answer the door, but really there was no sleeping through the persistent knock. My roommate would usually just lie in the bed and cuss until I got up and answered the door, so given the fact that it appeared to be my responsibility, I came up with a plan of my own.
It was almost always the same two people; a lady of about 35 and a boy of about 12. They weren’t especially nice, but they always had a few questions to ask and some printed material to give me. They were wide awake and took advantage of the fact that they had just snatched me from dreamland because I usually just stood there and nodded my head. “Ok, thanks” was usually about all I had been able to come up with until the dreaded Saturday I decided to institute my plan!
I don’t remember what time I had gone to bed the night before, but given the time frame this day occurred (my college days) I’m sure I had yet to sleep off the previous night’s events. When I heard the knock the first thing I did was look at the clock; 8:06, right on time! My roommate was in full swear as I threw my legs off the bed and removed the clothes I had slept in, underwear and all! Quietly I walked to the door and opened it without making a sound. The lady never missed a beat; she locked eyes with me and they never strayed. She went through her pitch as though it was any normal Saturday and handed me the pamphlet. The little boy was another story! His gaze scanned me from head to toe and how he managed not to laugh can only be a testament to his training.
I absolutely remember this.
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